95
by Something's Brewing in My Head
Summary: After all their hopes of contacting the Ark have been dashed, and Clarke's life is in shambles, she makes one last ditch effort to try and save the lives of those on the Ark. She just has to contact them by getting to Mount Weather. But Bellamy has other plans. (BellamyxClarke) CHAPTER 8: Clarke Confronts Bellamy about their kiss...and more about the Mountain Men.
1. 95

Ninety-five. 95.

That's how many humans are left on earth.

Well, maybe not strictly speaking. There was definitely someone, or something else still on the planet. But of the 100 settlers (test subjects more like) sent down by the Ark, only 95 remained. And that was only because they'd had a few additions to the original 100. And troublesome ones at that.

First there was Bellamy. The term "power goes to your head" had to have been coined by someone who knew him. Oh sure, he had his moments when he could be a real human being, like when his friend Atom died. But most of the time he was drunk on the almost complete and utter control he had over the majority of the 100. He might not be very smart when it came to keeping humanity alive, but he definitely knew how to manipulate a crowd, when they were actually listening.

But it wasn't even his insane propensity for creating mass hysteria that drove Clarke nuts. It was his complete disregard for the continuation of mankind. They needed to contact the Ark. Let the rest of humanity know it was ok to come down. Otherwise humanity would continue to kill of hundreds of innocent people just to keep a select few alive. And that's what might have happened. Because of Bellamy.

When all hope had been lost, Raven came down on her drop ship, functioning radio and all. And what does Bellamy do? Of course he destroys it. He may not have murdered them personally, but might as well have. He had to be an idiot. And yeah, he did have one heck of a reason to not want them to come to Earth, him trying to kill the chancellor and all. But was any reason really good enough to risk the lives of hundreds of people? Clarke had to reign herself in. Yes, true, he had ended up helping them, and for the second time he let his humanity show. But no matter what she had told him, if those people did end up dying, their blood was at least partially on his hands. The man was a walking contradiction and he just frustrated her so.

And then there was Raven. The newest addition to their motley crew of criminals. She herself was now a criminal, having probably broken a dozen laws that would've gotten her floated just to come to Earth and be with her boyfriend. And that be where the problem lay. Her boyfriend was Finn. Clarke's Finn.

She hated to say it, to even think it, but Finn had found his way into her heart. Giving her pencils and paintbrushes, indeed! And that's why she had done something she wouldn't have normally done. What was there to lose now anyway. The 100 had lost all chance of contacting the Ark. Her mother thought she was dead. Her best friend had died at the hands of a child! Who could possibly begrudge her a few hours of comfort in Finn's arms.

But then Raven had come. And Raven was Finn's girlfriend. Enough said.

Clarke glared at the couple from just inside the doorway of the drop ship. They were whispering in each other's ears and Raven was smiling. The way Clarke had smiled when she saw the pencil. Oh! How can anyone be so despicable! Yeah she had acted all mature about it, but she had been halfway in love with him, had given up rationality for him. And now he had his arms around another girl. She might act like she was over it...but she wasn't _really_ that mature. Could anyone really be?

Clarke wanted to hate Raven so much. But after hearing what she had gone through to get here, to risk her life just to be with the one she loved, Clarke couldn't hate her. Dislike intensely? Yes. Hate? No.

And why did she have to be so damn pretty!?

Monty cussed in the background. Clarke turned away from one unpleasant view just to alight on another. There were bits and pieces of wristbands strewn around him. He had one in his hand and was working away at it with a screwdriver. He was mumbling something about "if only" when Clarke approached him.

"Monty, you need to take a break". Clarke rested her hand on his shoulder.

Monty shrugged it away. "No! I need to fix it! I did something wrong...And now they think we're all dead! Oh God, my mom thinks I'm dead..." He groaned and put his head in his hands.

Kneeling down beside him, Clarke put her hand on top of his. She pulled the wristband from his grasp and put it aside. "Monty. It was no one's fault. These were just a bunch of crappy bracelets anyway. If you want to blame someone, blame the person whose bright idea it was to make them all go haywire and die when you do a little tinkering. And blame that idiot Bellamy for taking out Raven's radio! _Please _blame him...Ok?"

Monty smiled a little at this.

"Ok?" Clarke pressed.

Then Monty seemed to relax and nodded his head. Clarke stood up and started to move away. "I just wish I had some more tools...I could fix Raven's radio if I just had the right parts..."

Clarke stopped and turned towards him, and idea forming. "Are you sure you'll know how to fix it if you get the right supplies?"

Monty nodded. "But the only place I know of where there might be spare parts is on Mount Weather".

Clarke just nodded. "Exactly. Monty, I want you to get some travel supplies together."

Now Monty was standing too. "Clarke this is insane! We already tried this once before, remember? My best friend got speared in the chest! There is no way I am gonna go out on another trek, risking life and limb for some radio supplies!"

"Those radio supplies could save hundreds of lives, Monty! Maybe even your mother's life..." Clarke pleaded with him with her eyes.

His eyes momentarily teared up, but he blinked them away. "What if we get there and there are no usable supplies, what then?"

Shaking her head, Clarke reeled with the thought. "That isn't an option. It can't be!" Then she grabbed his shoulders, The strength in her grip digging into his arms. "Besides, you'll be there to make do. I know you can!"

There was only two things Clarke had to make sure of before this little trip. Well, specifically, two people. Jasper obviously couldn't go as he was still healing from his last trek into the woods. But the most important factors to the success of this trip was that no one but herself and Monty go. Finn couldn't go because he was too much of a distraction, more so now than ever. She was emotionally compromised where he was concerned. It wouldn't be that hard to leave him behind considering that he didn't even seem aware of her existence now that Raven was here.

But Bellamy was another issue. He couldn't go for the obvious reason that he would do everything in his power to keep them from contacting the Ark, as he had done in the past. He may have helped them when hundreds of lives were on the line, but that didn't mean he wouldn't thank his lucky stars if it hadn't worked. He would still put himself first whenever possible. And he would definitely try to keep them from finding any kind of supplies if it meant the 100 stayed reliant on him. And he was just nosy enough, and smart enough, to be concerned with what she occupied her time with. Yes, that's right. Clarke did admit, even if only to herself, that the idiot was smart...at times.

In order to keep him out of her hair, though, she would need help. Thus the reason why Octavia couldn't go with. She would have to stay behind and keep Bellamy distracted. Now came the fun part. Convincing Octavia to stay behind.

* * *

"I don't like this one bit!" Octavia flopped down on her cot. "Uh-uh. You can't make me be the diversion. Have Finn do it. _I'm_ going to come along. You'll need the back up!"

Clarke steeled her resolve. "We need someone to keep Bellamy occupied long enough for us to get too far ahead for him to track. If you come along, his suspicions will be raised all the more and he will _most certainly_ follow us. You can do the most good here." Octavia opened her mouth, but Clarke cut her off, "Besides, Finn and I aren't exactly on speaking terms right now."

It was very apparent that the wheels were turning fiercely in Octavia's brain, trying to come up with some reason for making life difficult. It was so obvious, Clarke could even tell when she found it. "Wouldn't it be a good idea to take Raven along with? She _is_ a mechanic, after all."

Clarke had asked herself the same thing. The only reasonable sounding excuse she could muster was "It would probably be helpful, but she isn't as familiar yet with this planet as we are. Besides, bringing her would mean bringing Finn and there is no way four of us are going to be able to sneak through the woods undetected by the grounders."

Octavia thought about this a moment. She must've found it good enough because she replied, "Ok. So what exactly do I need to do?"

* * *

Bellamy looked up from his carving just in time to see Clarke leaving his sister's tent. What the hell was she doing? What was she up to? Normally this line of thinking might be considered paranoia, but not when Clarke was involved. The little minx was always up to some kind of shit.

He continued slicing away at the piece of stone that was looking more and more like the arrowhead it was meant to become. Then when he had had enough of the niggling feeling he always got when Clarke was up to no good, he stood up, shoving the arrowhead into his pocket.

Octavia was chilling on her cot, listening to...something, be it the wind or birds. Her eyes were closed, lost in a daydream He missed having that kind of innocence. He couldn't remember the last time he had dared to daydream. Everything now was harsh reality. And just when he thought things might settle down long enough for him to make something of their dysfunctional tribe, people died. People were banished. People had murdered. People he had started to care for...or at least didn't hate.

In light of this, he had considered leaving Octavia alone with her innocent thoughts. But it was because of this that he kneeled down by her bedside. "Octavia". Her eyes fluttered open and he instantly regretted what he was about to ask. "What was Clarke doing here".

Octavia's pupils dialated minutely. "Hmm? Oh, she just came by to update me on how Jasper was doing." She closed her eyes again. And turned over. "He's good. I might go see him later...tonight". She seemed to put special emphasis on the word "tonight" and Bellamy narrowed his eyes. He would have to keep his eyes on his little sis. She seemed to be absolutely persistent in her desire to fool around with all the boys in the camp. True, the prospect of Jasper niggled at him the least, but still...She was just a kid. They both were.

Bellamy didn't respond but merely left the tent. The sun hit his eyes harshly. When they had adjusted, for some reason, his eyes found _her _first. They always did. He didn't know if it was out of some instinctual self preservation, or that she really was quite pretty despite the lack amenities on Earth. But for whatever reason, Clarke was always the first person he saw in a crowd. And it drove him nuts. He didn't even like her, but he saw her everywhere. She was a threat. A threat to him, his power, his emotional self reliance. He liked it when he could hate her. When she was nothing more than an annoying preachy fly he wanted to swat. But then she had to go and kill his friend...

That might seem like an odd way of endearing oneself to a person. But she had kept him from having to kill his friend. And for that, he would be forever grateful. And he hated it! It made him feel weak. She was the only person on Earth who actually scared him...because she had made him feel weak. And she had seen him that way. He could never forgive her for that.

It was that last thought that made him turn away from her, grab his bow and arrow, and head out into the woods.

* * *

When he returned, night was falling. He'd come back with another dear, this time it wasn't even deformed. Hopefully this would make it easier for his people to skin it, being less creepy looking and all. But he doubted it. Now they'd probably just say it was too cute to cut up! He really did hate people. He had to remind himself everyday of all the reasons why he took care of them. It wasn't easy.

Bellamy, of course, saw Clarke first, heading into the drop ship with a bag. He purposely tore his eyes away from her and went to see his sister. But when he got to his tent, he saw Octavia sneaking out, eyes darting around, as though looking to make sure he wasn't there. Bellamy instantly found cover behind some brush. Then he followed her with his eyes as she made her way towards the drop ship. Ah. So she was going to see Jasper. But why was she sneaking...unless...

Bellamy narrowed his eyes and pursued. He peered in the doorway of the drop ship and saw Octavia kiss Jasper awake. Then she took him by the hand and led him to the exit. Bellamy dove for cover, bow and all, behind some debris. After the moon-eyed couple had passed, he trailed behind them. They never even heard him when he snapped a twig, so wrapped up in their little romance they were.

He followed them all the way into the woods. Bellamy couldn't help but mutter to himself, "If they've just gone to go see the butterflies, so help me..." That was when it hit him. Octavia had been lying to him! The niggling feeling that something wasn't right, wasn't what it appeared to be. And then he remembered why. Clarke hadn't been in the drop ship. Sure, she could've gone out to the bathroom or something. But he'd seen her go in with a satchel, as though getting ready to pack something. You don't need to pack a bag to go and crap. So where had she gone with a packed bag?

Sure he was making a lot of leaps in reasoning. But with Clarke, he couldn't be too safe. And right now, following Octavia and Jasper on whatever innocent, or not so innocent misadventure they were on, was not worth missing the trouble Clarke was all to realistically creating for everyone.

He swore to himself and turned around. He knew his sister and her simple ways. If she was purposely leading him this direction, then you could bet he needed to be going the exact opposite.

It didn't take him long to find them. Clarke and _Monty_ of all people were trying to stay hidden while whispering to each other. He couldn't tell what they were up to, but Bellamy had made it his mission to find out.

* * *

"Have you got everything?" Clarke was kneeling low to the ground, with her satchel slung over her shoulder.

Monty just shrugged his shoulder. "I think so."

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. "Because you know we need to be able to send the message directly from mount weather if we can. We can't risk coming back and dealing with Bellamy if we can avoid it..."

Monty looked stressed. "I know. I've got everything. I just...I'm worried."

She rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "I am too. But we can do this. The grounders are much less likely to see us if it's just the two of us. We just have to be quiet."

The boy nodded his head, but didn't look any more convinced. However, he stood along with her and the two of them started their trek into the dangers that lurked on this now alien planet called Earth. Not even their unwelcome backup would've made them feel better, had they known he was there. Because he was there bow in hand and ready to, at any moment, put an end to the threat they posed to his existence.


	2. Deer in the Headlights

**Hello again all! I am so happy to receive so many positive reviews! And all the great followers, my readers, you guys are the best! Thank you. **

**I just want to say how emotionally torn I am after that episode. Where episode 4 made you doubt humanity, episode 5 brought it back to life! Best episode so far. **

**As for my story, I just want to say that I am posting this late, cuz I wanted to go ahead and get it up, but I haven't spell checked the last half of it. So please excuse errors. Also, I am going to go back to the previous chapter and make a few changes to help it tie in with this weeks episode a little better. I won't worry about fitting it with the story line after that. I just thought it should flow well with episode 5 since that is the episode it is based off of. **

**There is finally a Bellarke scene in the story. I know quite a few of you wanted to see them interact. I just hope it isn't too disappointing. This chap is mainly build up for the next one. I plan on having it up sometime this weekend.**

**That's it for now! Please enjoy and review! Helpful criticism is also welcome.**

* * *

Trying to walk several miles through a dense forest in the middle of the night...is...not...fun. Like, at all. It would've been hard for a skilled hiker, or anyone more athletically inclined. For Monty, it was torture.

Every few steps, he'd stumble and swear a little too loudly. Clarke would shush him and charge forward, questioning, not for the first time, the validity of her plan. At this rate, it was going to take too long to get to Mount Weather. And the idea that they could actually get there unnoticed by the grounders now seemed ridiculous. They might as well turn back now and save themselves the spear.

But despite this, she kept pressing forward. She tried to tell herself it wasn't because she wanted to get away from certain people...namely Finn and his girlfriend. But it was a lie. She knew that. She just hoped Monty didn't realize that. As long as he seemed to have faith in her, then she could too.

Monty tripped and fell for like the tenth time that night. But instead of picking himself up and dusting his butt off, like the previous nine times, he just sat there. It was clear he was out of breath, but it was more than that. Clarke reached her hand down to help him up. He just looked at it.

"Come on, Monty. We're almost there." Clarke gave him her most reassuring smile, even though she was pretty sure he couldn't see it in the dark.

Monty just sighed, but grabbed her hand firmly. "If by 'almost there' you mean where we nearly shish kabobbed by a bunch of heathens, then yeah. That's what I'm afraid of." Monty shook his head and dusted off his bottom. "I thought I could handle this...but I'm not so sure. I don't want to die. I mean, this hell hole is crap, but there is still so much more I want to...!"

Clarke cut him off. "And you'll get to. As long as you're _quiet._ Then we should be able to sneak into their territory just fine..."

His shoulders slumped dejectedly but he followed her like a loyal dog, mumbling to himself, "So much I want to do, like kiss a pretty girl before I die..."

* * *

Bellamy nearly laughed out loud when the kid fell for the tenth time. They may be idiots for attempting this little expedition, but they were certainly persistent.

And that scrawny little kid is _not_ who he would've brought along as _back-up_! He would've thought Finn would be her first choice. He didn't know what was going on in that quarter, but it was apparently bad enough to make him untrustworthy. Jasper was still healing, and still pretty useless. But come on! Even his sister would've been a better choice. But what really rankled was why hadn't she brought _him_ along for this little covert ops! He was far superior to anyone else when it came to muscle. She had even deliberately used his sister to keep him from coming. Then it hit him. All that, plus the direction they were heading could only mean Mount Weather. And Mount Weather meant supplies...all kinds of supplies. It would give her leverage against him. And if they found radio parts and were able to contact the Ark directly, whose knows what the rest of the 100 might do when they found out what he'd done!

Bellamy scoffed indignantly. There was no way in hell the two of them were getting to mount weather. The grounders would make sure of that. And if they thought they had continued unnoticed by the grounders despite their clumsiness, then they were fools. And if by some blasted miracle they happened to make it past the grounders, then _he_ would make sure as hell that they didn't succeed.

As these thoughts were going through Bellamy's head, he wandered a little too close to the clueless pair wandering around the forest. He drew up short just a few feet away, but he managed to keep himself hidden as he saw them interact. He knew just from Clarke's posturing that she was having doubts about this mission. But he also knew she was too proud to just throw in the towel. She was going to at least try. The idiot.

He saw her reach down to the klutz and smiled. There was so much to be read in that smile. It was confident, yet scared. It was compassionate, but merciless. It was the same smile she wore as she sang to Atom. Before she killed him.

Bellamy shook his head. He had to get that day, that moment out of his head. It was schizo to...respect, almost admire, the strength of the person who killed your friend, wasn't it?

Then Bellamy saw Monty stand up. He couldn't hear what Clarke had said. But as she walked away, he heard Monty whisper under his breath, "So much I want to do, like kiss a pretty girl before I die..." Bellamy frowned. Apparently, he wasn't the only one beginning to admire Clarke's...strength.

* * *

The river. They had finally made it. The sun was beginning to peek out from the horizon. They didn't have much time to waste. Refilling their water jugs as quickly and as quietly as possible was priority. Then they would decide how they were going to make it across.

Clarke handed Monty his canteen and then edged closer to the water with shaking hands. He had no sooner dipped it under water than he snapped his head around, eyes darting in all directions. "Did you hear that?"

Clarke had already filled hers and was taking a great big swig of it. She wiped her mouth. "No. What did you hear?"

"Like, snarling and drooling coming from the woods!" If it weren't for the fact that Monty's eyes were big and his pupils were dilated, Clarke would've thought he was pulling her leg.

Clarke sighed. "Ok, it's best we get this over with." Then she stood, looked around, and started treading through the water.

"Hey, wait a minute! I thought we were afraid of man eating water snakes?!"

Clarke sighed. "We are. But we are also afraid of spear wielding cannibals, so let's get going." She waved him on. "Besides, this area's shallow and the water is fairly clear and still. I don't think we have much to worry about as long as we move fast. Now come on!"

Monty splashed into the water and Clarke shushed him for about the zillionth time on their journey. Then he stepped onto a stone, to get out of the snake hiding water. But not being, like...at all, familiar with nature and its ways, he didn't realize the rock might have algae on it. Or that it might be slippery. So he fell.

The splash of the water almost hid the sound of a zing through the air. But either Clarke's hearing or instinct was very good, because she saw the spear fly by and land in a tree to Monty's left. She very quickly ducked down, grabbing Monty by the collar, and dragging him onto land as fast as she could. Then they both ran towards the cover of the trees. Another spear whooshed by them and Monty, though he'd never admit it, screamed. Shrilly.

They continued running, adrenaline pumping through them, enhancing their flight instincts to the point where even Monty never stumbled. Or, at least if he did, he didn't notice. Neither did they notice branches scratching and clawing at their faces and limbs. They didn't noticed how the sky had suddenly gotten darker. And they didn't notice that the grounder, who was much more familiar with this terrain than they, had cut them off.

They nearly ran into him. Literally, they were ten feet away by the time they saw him. And when they did, all they could do was stop and stare, like the old adage of a deer in the headlights. Seconds seemed to go on forever as they saw the...creature (for it didn't look human) drew his spear up higher preparing to throw.

Clarke closed her eyes and heard the fwoosh, followed by a soft thud. The fact that she didn't feel any pain told her that she was either so close to death her pain receptors had shut down, or Monty had been the one struck. She peeled her eyes open, and glanced to her side. Nope, Monty was still standing, although he looked like he was about to hyperventilate. Then she looked before her and saw the creature, sprawled out on the ground. She couldn't tell from just looking at it if it was dead or not, so she inched forward, meaning to find a...pulse...or something.

That was when she saw it. The arrow. Neither her or Monty had brought a weapon with them, not having one to bring. So who was their guardian angel?

* * *

He saw the kid get all paranoid and chuckled to himself. He'd only snapped a twig! But he couldn't really blame him. This place, knowing what had happened there, even gave him the heebee jeebees.

Bellamy wondered if he should stop them now, before they put themselves into _real_ danger. He also thought that maybe it'd be best for everyone, mainly himself, if he just let them get killed by the grounders. After all, as Clarke so liked to remind him, he wasn't a killer. He'd let the grounders do his dirty work for him. Yeah. That was probably best.

Then the kid fell _again. _Into the water. Bellamy couldn't help but laugh this time. But then the spear went flying in the direction of where Monty had been standing. Even in the heat of the moment, the idea of Monty's clumsiness saving his life struck Bellamy's funny bone.

He saw Clarke and Monty make a run for it. And he also saw the creature that trailed after them. Moving very fast...

They'd never be able to outrun it. Without thinking about what he was doing, or how it might effect his plans, Bellamy ran after it. He raced through the dense forest, light as air, and was keeping good pace with the creature. But it had a head start...and it was gaining on the pair of teenagers.

He slammed the brakes when the creature circumnavigated the pair running. It did so very quickly and brought the two to a screeching halt when it cut them off. He saw it raise its spear, not ten feet away from them. They must've been frozen in shock because they didn't even try to run. It would never miss at this distance. And the bow was aimed directly at Clarke.

Without giving it even a second of thought, it was as though instinct loaded his bow, drew the string, aimed, and released. There was no way he would make that shot, of course, being about 50 yards away. He was good, but not that good.

Except, after he heard the zing, it was followed by a muffled thud. He opened his eyes, not realizing they had been shut, and saw the creature's body on the ground. He let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.

As he approached them, Bellamy cursed himself and his stupid impulsiveness. It was always getting him into trouble. Here, he could've had a reasonable way to rid himself of Clarke's interference, and no one could even fault him for it because it had been her own stupidity which caused it. And yet now _he _was the one interfering. His impulsiveness caused him more trouble...

Clarke had gotten within a few feet of the creature by the time he was within earshot. She started to bend over for a pulse and he stopped her short, saying "I wouldn't do that if I were you. There's no telling if it's actually dead." He jogged the remainder of the way to them.

Clarke looked up at him with astonishment, fear, and something akin to gratefulness in her eyes. "_You_ did this?"

Bellamy took another arrow from his quiver and jabbed the creature in the side with it. It didn't respond. "Yeah. I did this. And it looks like it really is dead. So feel free to touch its fur or whatever it was you were doing..."

Clarke put a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow. "I was checking for a pulse...a more sure fired way to _actually_ tell if someone is dead than stabbing them!"

"You mean some_thing_!" Monty was on the ground, clutching his knees to his chest. He obviously didn't handle near death situations well.

Bellamy looked down at the fur covered creature. Man! He couldn't even see its eyes. But he did notice the hint of a pull string peeking out from beneath all that fur. "Well, let's find out..." Then he reached down and pulled the string.


	3. Once Upon a Something

**Firstly I want to say how grateful I am to all my readers! You guys make putting off finals homework totally worth it! The reviews I have gotten have been so lovely. (air kisses all around)**

**So here is the 3rd chapter. Lots of inner thoughts and perspective changes. It was loads of fun to write. there is way more Bellarke than in the previous 2 chaps. I love writing them. Bellamy's character is great. I like writing gray characters. I also tried to make it fairly lighthearted in spots, despite the inner turmoil Bellamy feels. I thought it was needed after this week's episode. **

**Please read it and enjoy! Oh...and please review. ^_^ (more air kisses)**

* * *

Well. It was definitely human. Yeah, it was wearing primitive clothes, was dirty, scarred, and had horrible teeth (and bad breath). But it was still human. The visible effects of the radiation must've started to dissipate over the years. That was actually a relief. It was less daunting to be dealing with normal looking humans for some reason. Clarke let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

She looked up to gage Bellamy's reaction and was surprised by it, even though she really shouldn't have been. After all, _she_ was the one who had told him he wasn't a murderer. He had obviously been wishing that whatever it was behind the mask, it was far enough from being human as to make it...not murder...or something. Not that that would've really made it ok. But it might've.

For a full two seconds he looked completely stricken and...perhaps lost. Then he glanced up at her and he immediately wiped the sadness from his eyes. Clarke felt almost sorry for him, and also something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was sympathy, maybe. Or even empathy. She really did feel for him. He might act tough, and be a jerk most of the time. He might even be willing to kill in order to protect what was important to him. He could've killed Atom even if she hadn't. She knew that. But he didn't _want _to be a killer, even to protect others. It was as though she could see him for the first time and realized that she didn't...hate what she saw.

She stared at him with partially narrowed eyes, as though daring him to contradict what she had just seen.

Monty came up behind them then. "Holy crap! It's human!"

Bellamy was the first to look away. "Of course it's human. What else did you think it would be?" Clarke knew he wasn't really asking Monty. He was asking himself.

"Well, I thought it would at least be deformed, like the skeleton in the woods". Monty shrugged.

Clarke tore her eyes away from Bellamy. "Yeah. I thought about that. The effects of radiation will eventually work their way out of their DNA. I'm guessing that skeleton was probably from many decades ago."

Clarke could feel the rain start to lightly drop from the darkened sky.

Bellamy obviously felt it too. "Come on. We're gonna need to find shelter or we're gonna get soaked."

Fear suddenly ran through her. Whether he had saved her life or not, he had still only been here for one reason. "We're not going back. Not until we get what we came for."

In that moment, Bellamy looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Like there was some big decision he wasn't really ready to face yet. "Look. We can discuss that later. Right now we need to find shelter. And I fully realize there is nothing behind us for many miles. So we go forward. Now come on." He practically shoved Monty ahead of him. Then he looked as though he might do the same to her, so she followed. Why fight when he was doing what she wanted?At least for the time being...

* * *

Now he really was a killer. It was true that it was in defense of another. But after finding out that he hadn't actually killed Jaha, he was so relieved. But now, now he had nothing to loose. Just like before. He had taken that step, and he was officially a killer. It would spur him on in his determination. Toughen him up. And yet, he still regretted it. Clark had just told him he wasn't a killer, but boy did he prove her wrong...

And why _was_ she always around during his moments of weakness? It frustrated him to no end. He could be so strong, a leader worth following. If it had been one of his lackeys there, he was sure he could've put on a front. Been strong. There was something about her gaze, her eyes when she looked at him. It was like she saw through him. He couldn't have that. There was too much at stake. She would not usurp him. And as much as she might claim she wanted to be, they would not be "partners" in this either. There could only be one leader. And he had to be strong.

He had to keep her from getting those supplies. Which led him to question his sanity for the second time that day, the first being when he saved her life. If his body had given his brain 5 seconds to think about it, he would've holstered his arrow. He would've missed. Anything to keep him from having to deal with the question of what to do with them now.

Despite the rain, he should've marched them right back to camp. By arrow point if he had to. Or, now that he really was a killer, he could just dispose of them here in the woods. Sure there would be questions, but nothing he couldn't quash with a show of force.

Something about that just didn't sit well with him. Actually, _everything_ about it didn't sit well. He couldn't kill them for the same reason he saved her...them. The same reason he knew she saw in his eyes and dared him to deny. He didn't _want_ to be a killer.

Bellamy almost didn't even see the shack, so wrapped up in his own thoughts. But Clarke slapped his shoulder and pointed. He followed her gaze to a small building. It might've been a small house...or it might've been an outhouse. He'd heard about those and supposed that either way the trip could be useful. A house might have stuff he could take. If it was an outhouse, he could learn how to build one. They'd need to have something like that...and soon.

Nope, it was a house. Rats.

By now they were pretty wet. And to make things worse, the door was locked. Why would anyone need to lock their house for an apocalypse?

Monty squirmed in the rain, impatient to get in. The rain poured even harder. Clarke huffed with a rather adorable little pout to her lips. He realized that his legs were already aching from walking all night, and now he'd have to break the door down. Which would make the rest of him hurt too.

Wait! What? Clarke, might be rather pretty, but absolutely no part of her could be considered adorable! He must be suffering from sleep deprivation.

Bellamy gathered all his frustration with himself and used it to break open the door.

* * *

Jeez! Bellamy was definitely strong. Clarke was momentarily jealous. She wished she could back up her words with _that_!

But then more practical matters brought themselves to the fore in her mind. Supplies. The house was small, but it might still have useful stuff! It might even have an old radio!

She darted around the cabin, all one room of it. She opened cabinets and drawers. Looked under the bed, and behind the headboard. She even looked in the old mini fridge, which she closed immediately, never to open again. All she found were kitchen utensils (useful enough), old canned goods (swollen, probably from mold or bacteria), and a couple of batteries which were probably dead anyway.

Clarke turned to Monty to present him with her finds and found him zonked out on the bed, disgusting and rotting as it might be. He'd definitely regret that later. But she left him. Instead, she told Bellamy. "We need some food."

He only nodded and walked right out the cabin.

Clarke furrowed her brow. That was odd. But she followed him out the door. He was receding into the distance already, so she merely shouted at him that she'd gather some fire wood to cook over. He waved his arm as his only acknowledgement, never looking back at her.

Oh well. At least he was being helpful for the moment.

* * *

It had been two hours. She had gathered wood and started a fire in the fireplace, albeit with some bit of a struggle. The chimney needed cleaning and she was quite sure it had been the home of...something...once upon a time. But she'd figured it out because she had to. And he still wasn't back yet! Not that she cared what might've happened to him...but he was their source of food at the moment. She did have some packaged nutrient packs, but she wanted to save those as long as possible. Not for the first time she realized that she really needed to experiment with the plant life on Earth. She might not be much of a hunter, having never had to learn. But she could definitely learn how to utilize the plant life.

It made her wonder how Bellamy had learned to hunt. What kind of circumstances on the Ark brought about the necessity of having to learn how to hunt? There wan't really much _to_ hunt. A few rats, maybe. A few cattle bred and raised in space. But most of their food was distributed to them in rationed supplements. He wouldn't need to hunt for food.

Then Clarke remembered his sister. She wasn't supposed to have existed, so she didn't get any rations. They would've had to make ends meet somehow. Clarke bemoaned, not for the first time, the position mankind was in trying to survive.

Clarke dug around in the kitchen, preparing herself for cutting up the meat Bellamy was bringing back. Just then, a thought occurred to her. What if he wasn't coming back. What if he was planning on leaving them there, hoping they'd starve, or the Grounders would make swift waste of them!?

Clarke swiftly dismissed these thoughts. Not because she believed he was coming back, but because he _had_ to come back. They needed him, more than she was really ready to admit. But he was a good provider. He had the instincts of a leader, even if his methods were cruel. He would always take care of those he cared about. And he seemed to care about the 100. And technically she was one of them. So he wouldn't...couldn't abandon them now.

She also realized they could never do this without him. She might have determination, but that didn't help her as she stared the Grounder down, frozen, his spear aimed at her chest. But he had. And she needed him to help her again. They needed those supplies. The 100 needed those supplies. He was their best means of getting them. He had proven that. She _had_ to convince him to help.

But in the meantime, Clarke was going to do what she could to make sure they had what they needed when he _did _get back with the food. She grabbed a large bowel from the cabinet and went outside to collect rain water. Afterwards, she was washing the utensils. The door slammed open and she jumped, her hand slipping on a knife. She quickly turned towards the door and saw Bellamy coming in with a small rabbit and a weird looking bird. "Finally!"

"Is that relief I hear in your voice, Princess?" Bellamy, for the first time all day used her infamous nickname. It must mean the status quo had been reestablished.

* * *

He was forcing himself. He had convinced himself that everything was going to go back to the way it was. The two of them would tolerate each other, all the while silently loathing the other and trying to do everything they could to usurp them. He would be snarky and ruthless. She would be compassionate and cutting.

And he _would_ keep them from reaching Mount Weather.

But when he saw her in the kitchen, so relieved at his coming back. He knew something had changed. Status quo was a delicate thing. And it had already toppled. The problem was, he wasn't really sure who had the upper hand.

What had made him change his mind, he wasn't sure. As far as he could tell, there was no _one_ event. It could've been her skilled manipulation over him. It could've been the weakness he was never able to hide from her. Or maybe he really was starting to care...about something other than himself and his sister. True, the lives on the Ark really did mean nothing to him. But he also didn't want to be their killer. That was the only thing he had come to terms with. He might be ruthless, and might have to do unpleasant things to keep order amongst criminals. But he didn't want to be a killer. And he really did want to make life on Earth work. Both he and Clarke had that in common.

Maybe it was as simple as that. They had found some common interests. With that acknowledgement, he realized that they were dependent on each other. They needed each other if this was to work. He'd help. It was as simple as that.

It was with a surprisingly lighter heart that he plopped the dead animals onto the counter. "What d'ya say we get ol' Monty McSnorefest over there to do the cooking?!"

And, for the first time ever, Bellamy saw Clarke laugh.


	4. The Tip of His Tongue

**Hello my lovely readers! I am so proud to have so many wonderful people enjoying my story!**

**Finals are over and it is GLORIOUS!**

**So here is chapter 4. I think it should make quite a few of you guys happy as there is a lot of Bellarke moments! I am trying to keep a good balance of Bellarke and suspense. I hope I have succeeded. I do suck at writing action scenes so they make sense, but I am working on it. They always end up real short too.**

**This is also the longest chapter I have written so far. There was just so much I wanted to happen in this update, I guess. **

**Anyway, let me know what you guys think. I love reading all your reviews. They inspire me to keep going!**

**btw, the official count in the show is 92 now, making my story officially outdated, lol!**

* * *

"Not bad, Monty. Not bad..." Bellamy wiped his hand across his mouth as he devoured the meat right off the bone.

Monty shrugged. "Eh, I guess I'm just good at 'smoking' things"

Bellamy chuckled and Clarke just rolled her eyes, remembering why Monty was one of the 100 in the first place.

Clarke fanned her shirt one last time in front of the fire. The warmth radiating from it had helped to get them all dry. Bellamy's eyes were momentarily drawn to the sliver of exposed stomach she revealed. He was a man after all.

"Well I'm beat! I say we get some rest and start out just before dawn. Sound good?" Clark stood and collected their bowl full of bones.

Bellamy saw that she had a rag wrapped around her hand and gave her a quizzical look. Clarke either ignored him or didn't notice. Had she been running around all evening with that, or had she gotten it in the woods? He couldn't help but feel like he should've noticed it sooner. Although, really, that was absurd.

Monty stretched. "So who wants the bed this time? I think I got my turn on it already."

Bellamy and Clarke exchanged a look. Bellamy cleared his throat and replied, "No worries, Monty. You can sleep on it. I think Clarke and I would rather sleep on the floor anyway. Too used to it by now."

Clarke merely nodded acknowledgement. Monty already smelled like a decaying carcass from sleeping on the musty bed. No need for any more of them to.

Monty climbed into the bed and was literally out in seconds, just like last time. Clarke went to dump the contents of the bowel outside the window. Bellamy followed her and grabbed her wrist. "What did you do to your hand?"

Clarke looked down at it in surprise. She had clearly forgotten about it. "Oh...you startled me when you came in...and I cut myself with a knife."

Bellamy raised his eyebrow. "So you're gonna blame this on me too?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm. For some reason he felt like everything that went wrong in her life was his fault. Or at least she made him feel that way. She implied it with her eyes.

Pursing her lips, Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. It was almost a...playful...glare, he thought. "_No_. I _said_ that you startled me and _I _cut myself. No where in that statement did I say it was your fault."

"Uh-huh." Bellamy fought back a smile. He was realizing that their little squabbles were actually quite...fun? "Anyway, we need to get that cleaned." She was going to protest but he continued, "The last thing we need is for you to lose your hand from this little escapade. Who else would we have to stitch people up?"

Clarke couldn't argue with that so she grabbed her pack and pulled the med kit from it. They both sat at the little table and he got to work.

* * *

As he began to unwrap the rag from her hand, the tension in the room was suddenly thick as fog. Never had she needed help from _him,_ at least not when it wasn't to fix something he had done. She had always been the one there for him. Clarke found it hard to believe he'd even want to help her. He did have a point. She was the only healer the 100 had, so it made sense he would want to keep her well. But she honestly didn't think he really cared. The sick were weak, to be put out of their misery. He hated her. And he would do everything within in his power to keep her from gaining the upper hand in any way. Which meant keeping her from reaching Mount Weather. So why was he helping her now?

Pain shot through her palm as Bellamy pulled the last bit of rag away from her wound, and Clarke gasped. The gnash began to slowly ooze blood once more. She glanced up for the briefest moment and suddenly realized why he was helping her with this. He was taking perverse pleasure from her pain. The smirk he wore was evidence of that. And from how slowly he was going about this just confirmed it.

Finally, as he was appearing to show some confusion about which bottle contained the antiseptic, Clarke reached for it and would've administered it herself. The anticipation of the burn was killing her. But being the jackass that he was, Bellamy swiped it from her, popped the lid, and then tilted it forward over her cut to such a gradually minimal degree that she wondered how old she would be by the time he was finished.

All of a sudden a fire alit in her hand, or at least it felt that way. Bellamy had sloshed a big puddle of the antiseptic all over her palm. But no sooner was the pain there, than it was gone, relieved by a cool breeze.

Bellamy Blake was _blowing_ on her hand.

Life could not get any weirder than this moment in time.

"Where did you learn that?" Clarke tilted her head to one side, honestly curious.

Bellamy thought real hard about the answer. Whether he was coming up with a story, or deciding on the best wording, Clarke wasn't sure. Then finally, "I have a younger sister, remember? Kids get into all sorts of scrapes. And no matter how badly she got hurt, we couldn't take her to see a doc, so...I learned a few things."

Clarke was really rather amazed. She had never thought of Bellamy being a healer, albeit self taught. "Well it's working, but I think you should probably go ahead and put the bandage on it now."

Bellamy grinned a smile she knew she didn't like. "Why? Is this..." He blew on her hand again, "...making you uncomfortable?"

Narrowing her eyes at him, she replied, "No. I just think you might have gotten enough spittle in the wound for one evening. Now put the bandage on."

He did as she said. Silently and quickly. She was also pretty sure he was glowering...more so than usual.

When she was all wrapped up, she flexed her fingers and stood. "Well. I think we should rest. Tomorrow is gonna be a big day. _Monty_ and I have to make it up that mountain." She made sure that he knew she and Monty were going whether he wanted them to or not...and whether he was joining them or not.

She was honestly expecting a fight. For him to declare them fools and demand that they march right on back to camp. But he just stood. Silent. Rather still. "Ok then. I'll take one side of the fire and you the other?"

Bellamy nodded. Not saying another word. She knew he was planning something, and the unease in her stomach tripled.

Despite all this, though, the last thought Clarke had before nodding off was on a lighter note. It was of him blowing on her hand that last time. Had the foreboding and hateful Bellamy Blake actually attempted to _flirt_ with her?

* * *

It was just before dawn. She could feel it in her bones. The sun was about to come up, she knew. And she also knew they should get a move on. They needed to reach that emergency station before the end of the day. And she'd have an awful fight with Bellamy to deal with before hands.

But something in her fingers was itching. That one that artists get when they just have to draw...something, anything. The kinks need to be unwound from their hands, their imagination sated.

And so, before waking the others, she silently pulled her sketchpad and pencil from her satchel. They'd been given to her by Finn, but nothing could taint their preciousness.

Flipping it open, she placed the pad on her lap. The firelight was dim, but it'd be enough to sketch by. She turned around and started a quick sketch of Monty, stretched out on the smelly bed, mouth wide open. He'd probably swallowed a dozen bugs last night.

Clarke giggled lightly. Then she jumped when she heard Bellamy stirring across from her. She quickly closed her sketchbook and was about to shove it in her bag, pretend like it didn't exist. As far as _he_ was concerned, it didn't exist. But then he settled. And there was something in his expression...a vulnerability...or youthfulness she'd never noticed before. This was the face he never showed anyone...except maybe his sister. But even that she doubted.

Again, that itching was back in her fingers and before she could think about what she was doing, pad and pencil were in hand and she was sketching away like crazy. She had to move fast, the moment might be over at any time. But when it came down to doing his expression, she slowed. Put in more thought and detail. She wanted to capture him this way, if only to have as proof to herself that he was a real human being sometimes.

Just as she finished up his eyebrow, his eyes fluttered open. Clarke's hands had never moved so fast. The pad and pencil were back where they came from before Bellamy was even able to register where he was.

* * *

You know that tickle you get on the back of your neck when you're being watched? Well that's the feeling that woke Bellamy. As soon as his eyes were open, the feeling stopped. But he could've sworn he saw Clarke, who was the only other person actually awake, tear her eyes away from him. It weirded him out. Usually he was the lurker, spying on people. And it was just all kinds of freaky to be watching someone while they slept! What was she plotting?

Clarke got up and started tossing items from the cabin into her pack. Just a few, she still needed to have room for later. Then she shook Monty and whispered something to him. Silently, he got up as well, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Without a word to Bellamy, Monty grabbed his bag and put on his shoes.

The two of them were going to leave without him!

Bellamy leaped up. "Hey, where do you guys think you're going..."

Clarke cut him off. "_We_ are going to Mount Weather with or without your permission!" She quickly ran her fingers through her curls, not that it helped much.

Why couldn't things just be simple for him. Monty was already outside, and Clarke was on her way through the door when Bellamy said, "Wait. I'm coming with you."

Shock stopped Clarke in her tracks. Her brow was furrowed as she faced him. "What?! Why would you want to go with us?"

Bellamy didn't know how to answer. So he bristled. "I don't have to answer for my actions to you!"

Hip cocked, and one hand at her waist, Clarke embodied a woman with confidence. "Look, Bellamy, you expect us to let you come along, to entrust our lives to someone who, just yesterday, was, I am pretty sure, perfectly willing to let the Grounders finish us off!? I think that deserves an explanation."

Bellamy strode the length of the room in a fraction of a second. His chest was nearly touching hers and if he hadn't been several inches taller, their noses would've definitely been touching. "And yet I _didn't_ let them kill you, _did_ I?"

Clarke narrowed her eyes, but didn't budge. Bellamy looked into her gray-blue eyes, expecting...no, hoping...she would relent without insisting on further explanation.

But it was Bellamy who finally relented. "Ok, so I don't know why. I don't know if it's because I want to make up for possibly getting those people killed, or if I think this is my best bet to keep my sister safe...or...or...hell, I dunno, Clarke!" Bellamy wiped his hand across his face and took a step back. Something else had been on the tip of his tongue. Something that was just starting to take form but wasn't cohesive yet. "Can I please just go with you, You know as well as I do that your chances are greater _with_ me than without me, whether I present a danger to you myself or not."

Tapping her foot, as though impatient with herself, Clarke rolled her eyes (he was pretty sure that was at herself too), and gave in. "Fine! But if you try to keep us from bringing back radio supplies..." This time it was she who got in his face, "...I will _personally_ see to it that _you_ don't make it back."

* * *

As they trekked through the woods, Clarke wondered if she could really do it. If it came down to contacting the Ark or letting Bellamy win, would she be able to end him? Sure she had killed Atom, but he was technically dying anyway. She had just hurried it along. But could she kill Bellamy in cold blood? Or at least in self defense?

Clarke didn't have time to really think about the answers because Monty slapped her arm. "Clarke, look!" Monty was pointing up the mountain side at a facility about 5 miles away.

They were almost at the top, they could be there within the hour if they picked up the pace! Clarke immediately moved to the fore. "Come on! We're almost there!"

Monty was already dragging his feet and Bellamy saw this. "Look, Princess. I think we should take a quick break, get some water from that stream over there." Clarke was about to interrupt him. He was just trying to post pone the inevitable. But Bellamy continued, "Besides, we may only have 5 miles left, but those last few are the steepest yet. It would be wise to rest up so we don't make stupid mistakes."

Clarke huffed. There was no disregarding the validity of his point. "Fine. But we make it quick. If we stay in one place too long, the Grounders will definitely find us."

Monty plopped down on a rock as though he couldn't have gone any further even if he wanted to.

Bellamy went to collect water. He didn't bother telling the Clarke that the Grounders had already found them several miles ago.

* * *

"Hey Princess, I think we've been here long enough." Bellamy eyed his surroundings warily. He knew the Grounders were there, encroaching ever closer. It was like they were purposely waiting to see what they were going to do next. Namely, would they climb Mount Weather or turn back.

Holding her face in the palm of her hands, Clarke said something, but it was muffled. Then she got up with great strain to her screaming muscles. Bellamy could literally tell how exhausted she was just by looking at her. Monty sighed, but reluctantly got up from his rock. Bellamy fingered the knife at his waist and felt reassurance from the bow slung over his shoulder. This motley crew was certainly persistent. If he wasn't so sure that the Grounders would not let them reach the top alive, he would think they could actually make it.

* * *

They had gotten about a half mile up the mountain before Bellamy knew they weren't going to make it any Grounders were so obviously present that even Clarke couldn't miss would have to find someplace to take their stand. Clarke eyed him, fear in her eyes. She was looking to him for guidance. She may be the leader of peace, but he was the leader of _war._

He tossed Clarke his knife and motioned for her and Monty to keep heading up the mountain. Drawing an arrow out of its' quiver, he readied his bow.

No sooner had he done so than a figure flew out of nowhere and knocked him to the ground. Clarke and Monty ran. Bellamy still had a grip on his bow, though, and when the Grounder turn to rebound, Bellamy drew it just as it was raising its spear. The bow landed and the Grounder toppled.

A spear whizzed by and he dodged it. He stumbled, and picked himself back up, having no time to even breathe. Bellamy heard a scream and for the first time, his eyes couldn't find her immediately. His heart pounded in his ears. Where was she?! What had happened to her?

His eyes found Monty first. He was on the ground, blood pouring from his head. The Grounder looming over him ready to stab him through the chest with his spear.

And then he saw her, all righteous indignation. Hate and fear, but mostly anger colored her features. Her hair was strewn wildly across her face. She swung with his knife. The Grounder dropped his spear, and clutched at his hand...no wrist. The hand was missing. Damn! She had _cut off his hand_! Then she punched it hard in the face and the Grounder toppled.

Clarke made a go for Monty, but another Grounder came from behind her and tried to grab her. But Bellamy was too fast for him. Again, out of instinct, he landed an arrow in the chest of her attacker.

Only half noticing the circle beginning to surround them, Bellamy made a mental list of his options. At this point it was pretty much a matter of deciding which was the best way to die.

Then he heard it. They all did. The loud, low wailing of a horn calling from the distance. He had learned to become afraid of that sound, just as the Grounders had. The Fog was coming. Bellamy ran to Clarke who was trying to drag Monty along. Out of nowhere, or rather a shrub, actually, A smallish Grounder ran in front of Clarke and pushed her away from Monty. Clarke fell back on her palms, but scrambled forward, grasping at Monty. Even though the Grounder was small, it was certainly strong, for it had already lifted Monty over its shoulders (although he did have to admit that Monty couldn't weigh _that_ much).

By the time Bellamy reached Clarke, Monty was gone. And Clarke was frozen, sobbing. Bellamy saw the green fog not too far away in the distance, working its way through the woods. They had to move now. He put his hand on her shoulder. Where was the Clarke from only moments ago? The one who had cut off someone's hand? "Come on, Clarke. We need to go." His words sounded so stern, and yet he wondered if she could hear the uncertainty he knew was there.

Clarke merely hiccuped a sob as response. Bellamy sighed and did the only thing he could do. He bent over and scooped her up in his arms.

* * *

**So I totally had it already planned that Monty was going to get kidnapped before I ever knew Octavia was going to be kidnapped. If I had known sooner, I probably would've made it be Octavia just to help keep the flow between this and the show a little better. But oh well. Marina Black1 should be happy with the next few chapters as they will be strongly Montyless.**

**And with that, I have a question for ya'll. Do you want to know what is going on from Monty's perspective now, so you know what is going on with him, or to keep it just Bellarke until they find him again and you learn about stuff as they do? There should also be a poll on my profile page if I can figure out how to get it to show up, hehe.**

**Let me know. I will do whichever gets the most votes.**

**Thank you and Chow!**


	5. Not So Brave

**Oh my gosh this chapter was so much fun! I loved playing with the idea of this growing attraction between Bellarke. They just have sooo much chemistry, it makes it easy. **

**So I officially have the BEST readers ever! I now have over 100 followers. I feel extremely honored. And the feedback! Your responses to my question were awesome and gave me a lot to think about. **

**On that topic, officially, Just Bellarke POV won out, with a close second being little snippits of Monty's POV. So this chapter is entirely Bellarke. I was gonna add a little Monty, but forgot until posting and decided I will just add it in the next chapter. As such, the chap is very light hearted, I believe. But please read this and I hope you enjoy it. It's a little steamier, than previously. *wink, wink***

* * *

Bellamy ached from holding her, cradled in his lap. His arm had fallen asleep because she had. On him. But that was preferable to having to listen to her cry. How could one woman be so strong and yet so week? The brave princess.

It hadn't taken him very long to find a cave to hide out in, surprisingly. There were apparently many such small tunnels running up the side of the mountain. He had plopped her inside for a moment while he grabbed debris and branches, anything that would help cover the entrance and protect not only against the fog, but against the Grounders as well.

When he returned she had already fallen asleep on the ground, her head on a rock. Tears had dried on her face and for some reason there was this pain in his chest. He just couldn't stand seeing her look so uncomfortable, he guessed. Her empathy must be wearing off on him.

So just as the radiation storm rolled in and the green fog was approaching their little hideout, he sat on the ground next to her. She was so out of it, she never even stirred as he lifted her slightly by her underarms, and pulled her so that her head lay cradled in his arm, and her upper body rested on his lap. Bellamy was so tired himself that he didn't even question what he was doing. He laid his head back on the rock wall he was leaning against and fell asleep listening to the sound of her breathing.

* * *

There was a kink in her neck. She moved to get more comfortable, and she heard a moan emanating from somewhere behind her head. It was a low rumble. She could even feel it reverberating through her. Clarke's eyes flashed open. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but she could feel the muscled thigh beneath her palm, separated only by his jeans.

Then she saw his face, too close to hers, but thankfully asleep. Letting out the breath she had held since she awoke, Clarke slid, as slowly and as obscurely as she could, off his chest. He grunted when her elbow jabbed him in the stomach. She made a small gasp, hoping he wouldn't wake. He didn't seem to, so she continued. Raising herself up and off him, she put her hand a little too close to a certain part of his anatomy. At which point, she was promptly thrown clear to the other side of the cave.

"What the _hell_, Bellamy?!" Clarke rubbed her sore shoulder. He didn't have to push her so hard.

Bellamy scowled. "You were taking your pretty little time getting off me, _princess_. I just thought I'd hurry it along."

"I was just trying to not wake you!" Clarke huffed.

Bellamy seemed to notice he had hurt her and looked sorry for what he had done. But he also seemed to have pushed it aside the next moment as he said, "Yeah, well, I was already awake."

Clarke gaped for a moment, and then hurled back, "Why was I on your lap in the first place?"

Bellamy opened his mouth to respond. Then closed it. He opened it again, just to close it in a flustered puff of air. Then finally, conceding, "You looked uncomfortable before." He crossed his arms across his chest, as though putting an end to this discussion.

But Clarke always had a come back. "Well if I wasn't before, I definitely am _now"_. She rubbed her shoulder again for emphasis.

At this, Bellamy stood up abruptly and went to the cave entrance. He peeled a piece of the makeshift door away to peer outside. "It looks like the storm is still going on. We may be in here for a while, princess. I hope it doesn't inconvenience you too much to be stuck in here with me." Bellamy was practically snarling.

Geez, what he she done to put him in such a foul mood? He had gone from holding her in her sleep to biting her head off for _his_ throwing _her_ into the cave wall. "Alright, Bellamy, why don't you just sit down here and we can plan our next move? Ok?"

He rolled his eyes. "You mean plot our own deaths? Sure. Why not?"

* * *

"Those supplies are going to have to come first." Bellamy's voice was cool, reserved. He had been treating her coldly ever since...that moment.

Clarke shook her head, refusing to give up on Monty. "But Monty needs our help! He's hurt. They could even be torturing him! We rescue him first and then go find the supplies."

Bellamy pursed his mouth. She could be so frustrating and stubborn. What had ever possessed him to hold her? He'd regretted it the second she started wriggling down his body. "Clarke, you know that's not going to work. Even if we do find Monty alive, he is injured. We would never make it to the top of the Mountain with him in tow. We _have_ to go for the supplies first. Otherwise, this trip is a bust, and we might as well forget about those supplies. There is no chance in hell of anyone coming back here again." Bellamy sees the tears well up in her eyes again. Why the hell does she have to break down around him? He can't take it any more! "Besides, if he's not dead already, he won't be by the time we get those supplies."

Clarke lowered her head. She knew what he was saying was right, logical. "But..."

Bellamy raised his palm. "We don't even know where they took him. Maybe the reason they are so protective of this mountain is because it's their home! If so, we can kill two birds with one stone." Never mind that it would make their little expedition even more dangerous. Walking right into the heart of Grounderland might not be the brightest idea. Why was he even still willing to help her?

Raising her chin in determination, Clarke responded, "Alright. But we are not leaving this mountain without Monty."

Bellamy didn't argue. He knew it would have no purpose if he did. They would either succeed in everything, or die trying. And for some reason he was resigned to it. There were worse ways to go, he supposed.

"I think the storm has let up." Bellamy inclined his ear towards the entrance. He peeked out and, sure enough, it was clear. "Let's get a move on. Hopefully we can stay ahead of the Grounders who attacked us". And he could stay far enough in front of her that he could convince his body to ignore her presence.

* * *

What had she done? Yesterday it almost seemed like he wanted to be friends, or at least allies. Now he was barely helping her _begrudgingly_. The man had mood swings worse than a premenstrual woman.

He was walking as fast as he could. She didn't know if he was trying to make some kind of point. Like that she was too slow, or if he just didn't want to be around her.

Her eyes alit on the stream flowing beside them. Maybe she needed a bath. It had been a few days since she last bathed. It seemed like a stupid reason to act callous towards someone. But, she supposed, a smelly person could definitely be unpleasant to be around. She felt kind of gross anyway.

Clarke followed the stream until it turned into a shallow pool below a small waterfall. She eyed the water. It was clear and fairly still. There shouldn't be any giant man-eating water snakes in there. _Hopefully_. "Hey Bellamy, we should stop and get some water." Clarke didn't wait for a response, she simply started to fill her bottle.

Bellamy let out an annoyed sigh, but capitulated all the same. He too began to fill his bottle. Clarke finished before him and sat down on a large rock. She removed her shoes and socks. Wiggling your toes in the open air was one of many new pleasures she'd discovered on Earth. The Sun was another. It felt so good against her skin as she watched Bellamy bend over the water. Again, she felt that itch in her fingers. The one that wouldn't go away until satisfied. She swore to herself and dug out her sketchbook and pencil. With loose sweeping motions, she sketched a gesture of him, capturing the pull of his muscles as he raised his hand to his mouth and sipped water from it. She couldn't see his face from where she was, so she put the most effort into drawing his hair. It was actually kind of adorably curly. Sweat beaded down his back and she wondered how she would go about drawing that. But she didn't get the chance. In the next moment, Bellamy turned to look at her and she abruptly tossed her art supplies into her satchel.

* * *

He gave Clarke an odd look. What was she up to? She looked like she had a pad of paper and a pencil. Had she been writing something down? He stood up and was about to tell her to get a move on, that they had already wasted precious time.

But then she did something extraordinarily peculiar. She took her shirt off. His eyes widened in shock, nee horror, at her standing before him in just her bra and jeans. He was far too shocked to look away, or even to respond in any audible way to her. No, he was responding in other ways, ways he would never tell her about. Her hands were on her pant zipper before he got his voice back. "What the hell are you _doing_?!" Damn. His voice cracked.

Clarke yanked her pants down and looked at him with a...smile? "What does it look like I'm doing?" With that, she splashed into the water and waded out until it was deep enough for her to bend her knees and be under the water. "You keep watch. I won't take long."

Bellamy abruptly turned his back to her despite her instructions. For some reason, it was too embarrassing to just watch her bathe herself. "Clarke, we need to keep moving. We don't have time for this nonsense."

He could hear the raised eyebrow in her voice."Yeah, well, We stink. And I will not have us spending another night with each other in another cramped cave smelling like wild animals. Your turn is next, so stop whining."

"But we're almost there! Time is wasting." Bellamy folded his arms across his chest. He was acting like a child who didn't want to take a bath, but he had his reasons. And that reason was a very much almost naked Clarke Griffin standing not ten feet away. He couldn't help himself. He glanced over his shoulder at her. All he saw was her back and she still had her bra on. But he had trouble tearing his eyes away from her when she spoke.

"And we'll be less noticeable when the enemy can't smell us coming from a mile away." Clarke half laughed to herself, and droplets of water slid down over her shoulders. Bellamy watched as they followed the curve of her back and trailed down her hip before slipping in amongst its own kind at the surface of the water.

"Yeah...uh...I guess that's true." His focus was blurred. Then she slipped beneath the water, presumably to wash her hair. With her gone, his gaze was almost immediately drawn to her satchel. It was laying on the rock she had sat on earlier. She had to expect this. After all, they were both nosey people.

In two strides, he was there. A second later and he had the sketchbook in hand. He quickly flipped through it. She was really quite talented, he noted as the pages showed him plants and various people from the camp. There were even some sketches of the odd animals they had encountered.

Bellamy glanced once more at the water as he heard her come up for air. She was now beneath the waterfall, enjoying the benefits of a good water thrashing. Her light colored bra was practically see-through. Bellamy gulped and returned his attention to the sketchbook.

His fingers stopped when they alighted on a sketch of Finn. His eyes narrowed as he realized when she must've done this drawing. Finn was asleep, hair tousled, shirtless, the blanket slipping off his bare legs. So things had apparently gone pretty far, pretty quickly between the two of them. Only to be quashed by an unexpected guest. For some reason, Bellamy truly appreciated Raven's presence for the first time.

Bellamy nearly tore the page as he turned it, banishing the appalling image of "sexy Finn" from his brain. He saw one of Monty asleep on that disgusting bed and laughed. That was better. _This_ was art, indeed.

He was still laughing when he turned to the next sketch. Then his smile froze. And vanished. Fighting the urge to drop the offending item, Bellamy's eyes darted back and forth between Clarke under the waterfall, and the sketchbook. It was probably the scariest thing he had ever experienced.

It wasn't that she had drawn him. That he had expected. He knew he was a good enough specimen to immortalize. But this was something else, it wasn't just of his physique, or face. This was of _him. _The _real_ him, the one _no_ one knew. And _she_ had seen him, laid bare before her. When had he shown her this vulnerability? He was very tempted to throw the book in the water. Let it erase that part of him forever.

His hand clenched over the book, wrinkling the page slightly. But it afforded him a glimpse of the following pages. He flipped through them, quickly. These had all been drawn in the last 24 hours. And most of them were of him. There were about 7 sketches, including the first one. All of him. His brows furrowed between his eyes.

And then they shot up as he saw the last one. The one she had just drawn.

Then he dropped the book as her voice interrupted his focus. "Okay, Bellamy. It's _your _turn." She walked straight out of the water wearing nothing but her drenched underclothes. Bellamy couldn't help but stare as the water fell off her body, slid over her curves. She was tiny, but well proportioned, that was for sure.

If she thought she'd won by making him take a bath, then he'd one-up her. He stood up and walked towards the water, stripping as he did so. Only he went a little farther than she had.

* * *

Clarke turned away from him just he pulled he pants down, boxers and all. The idiot. This was just pay back for making him take a bath, but still...

And what the heck had he been doing that made him jump out of his skin just now?

Then she saw it. Her sketchbook.

Clarke fumed. That dirty bastard had been nosing around in her sketchbook! She was about to yell at him, threaten him, when she remembered what had been _in_ the sketchbook. Not only had it had some very personal drawings , but there were some of _him_ in there too! He'd been caught reading someone's diary, practically, only to find the passage about himself, it would seem.

Clarke thumbed through the last few, wondering what he'd thought. And shit! Just how many drawings had she made of him the last few days?

Frustrated, and embarrassed with herself, Clarke chucked the sketchbook in her bag and started getting dressed. Her underwear was still wet, but what the hell. It would dry soon, and they needed to get a move on anyway.

Clarke was putting her pants on when she noticed Bellamy coming out of the water. That was fast. She watched him as the water on his chest fell lower and lower on his anatomy until...she looked at the ground. She grabbed his pants and tossed them at him when he'd made it on land. "Get dressed. We need to go."

Since she was looking at anywhere but Bellamy, Clarke didn't see the smug smile he was wearing. And since she had started up the path before him, she didn't hear him say, "Not so brave, _now,_ Huh Princess?"

* * *

**BTW, MissTerie, what did you mean by saying that Bellarke fans are psychic? I am curious.**


	6. What Eludes Them in the Dark

**So I have finally gotten around to updating! Honest, it wasn't because I didn't want to. I had a hard time figuring out where I wanted to go after the previous chapter. I hope I made the right choice. I finally kind of have a full plan on where this story is going. It basically just started out as me wanting to have a realistic Bellarke fic where they spend a lot of time wandering around in the woods. I hope I did alright with that, but I think I have discovered the story to it. In a couple of chapters there is going to be a point where I can stop, or I can keep going. We will see what happens. In the mean time, Here is chapter 6. I hope you like it. I just had to throw in the Monty scene. I felt it was necessary considering how I am starting the next chapter. But there is totally a part in here for all the Bellarkers that I think will make up for it.**

**Please enjoy! And Review! I love reviews! They make all the late nights writing worth it. And I am also totally open to constructive criticism, too. If there are any parts you think might be out of character, please tell me and I will try to rewrite it so it is better.**

**And so here it is...**

* * *

The first thing Monty felt was pain. And it was everywhere. He took a breath and struggled for air. Opening his eyes, all he saw was black. He tried to scream, to cry out, and realized he's been gagged. It filled his mouth and he fought the urge to throw up, it was so far down his throat. Out of reflex, he tried to pull it out of his mouth. But his hands stayed where they were. Tied behind his back.

Now Monty started to panic.

He struggled against the restraints. He wiggled on the floor where he lay, hoping his movements might loosen...something.

The rustling of fabric could be heard nearby. Then he heard voices. Two of them. And they weren't happy. It could've just been due to the large bump he suspected was forming on his head, but Monty didn't think they were speaking English. At least, not quite. Certain words he could pick out here and there. Like danger...and kill. Those words he couldn't help but recognize, even when said with the odd accent of what he assumed was Grounder.

Then it was quiet. Too quiet. Monty froze, still in darkness. He strained his eyes and realized there was a cloth over his head. Trying to pick up a sound...any sound, Monty held his breath for a moment.

The air rushed right back out of his lungs as light flooded him, affording him another type of blindness. The cloth had been torn from his head.

* * *

Mount weather was an emergency operations center. But it looked more like a compound. Clarke kind of thought it would've been...smaller. Or, at least, that it wouldn't look like a small city in the middle of no where. But that's exactly what it was.

And even though she should've, she also didn't expect to see the place crawling with Grounders. But it was. The Grounders obviously felt protective over the area, but she'd thought...hoped, that it had nothing to do with the emergency center. But, it would seem, it had everything to do with Mount Weather. It was their _home_.

Bellamy swore.

Clarke dropped to the ground, her knees tucked beneath her. "What do we do _now_, Bellamy?" She rubbed her fingers against her temple.

Bellamy crouched next to her. A grouping of bushes concealed them both now. Quirking a smug eyebrow at her, he replied, "Looking to _me_ for help now? My aren't we desperate? Didn't plan for this possibility, did you?"

Clarke just closed her eyes, pained by his words. She could see that Bellamy half regretted saying it, but remained silent for a few moments longer. She had been such and idiot. And of course Bellamy was here to witness it. Worse yet, considering the circumstances, she would probably die along side Bellamy. Totally not the way she wanted to go.

She bit her lip and took a breath. "Ok, we need to find someplace safe and regroup. Make a plan. We can't do anything until nightfall anyway." As she stood she could see, out of the corner of her eye, Bellamy's hand recede away from her. Had he been about to help her up or something?

* * *

Bellamy fingered the arrowhead in his pocket. What was he doing? Had he really been about to comfort her? He was confusing even himself with his behavior. And to make it all worse, when she'd seen his hand hovering above her shoulder, she'd looked...almost horrified. Would it really have been that bad to be touched by him? And why was he even thinking such things? Why did he care?

Out of frustration, mainly with himself, he squeezed his hand around the arrowhead. "Ouch! Damn!"

Clarke turned to look behind her, at Bellamy. "You alright?"

Blood oozed from the tip of his finger. He sucked on it. "Fine", He growled.

Furrowing her brow, Clarke remained silent and kept walking. They walked for about five minutes before she stopped and pointed at an alcove in the side of a large boulder. "Hey, I wonder if we covered this with some brush, we could probably hide out here. It's not too far from the emergency center. It also doesn't appear as though this area is heavily patrolled."

Nodding, Bellamy said, "Ok. Looks good. I'll go collect some brush."

He turned his back on her and wandered around, picking up the more leafy branches lying around. Man this week had been hell. Scratch that. Life on Earth had been hell. He had wondered, once, right after he had killed...shot...Jaha, if it would be like a clean slate for him. But it really seemed to be what had dirtied it. Before coming to Earth, he hadn't been a killer. He may have shot Jaha, but he hadn't been a killer. In fact, before this stupid venture, he hadn't been a killer. Now he was. While he knew he shouldn't really feel guilty for the lives he'd taken, Grounder lives, he did. It had been in self defense. In the defense of another. But it was still a terrible burden, knowing you had killed someone.

He wondered how Clarke had managed to go on, after she had spared him the guilt of killing his friend. She was stronger than he'd ever thought her possible of being. And she refused to give up. To give up on Mount Weather. On Monty. On the 100...on _him._

She'd been the one to tell him he wasn't a killer. And despite what he'd done in the last few days, he still wanted to believe her. He wanted to view himself as a protector. And that's what he'd been doing. Protecting the ones he cared about. Himself. Octavia. The 100. Even Clarke, despite however much he'd tried to convince himself he wanted her dead because she was a threat. But no matter how much of a threat she'd been to him, he had still wound up killing to protector her. He wished he had time to sort this out. His reasons, his motivations eluded him.

But he had more important things to think about right now.

Like planing just how they were going to break into a well guarded compound and steal supplies they didn't know the location of.

* * *

"Don't you think this'll be a bit...cramped?" Bellamy crossed his arms over his chest, like a child refusing to do what he was told.

Clarke had to smile just a bit. "What? Afraid of confined spaces, Bellamy? I didn't figure you to be the type who was afraid of anything..."

He made a face at her. Clarke held back a laugh. "Fine. But when you accuse me of being all up in your space...Just remember that _I_..." Bellamy gestured between the two of them, "...didn't want this."

Narrowing her eyes, Clarke felt like she was glimpsing something, something he'd been keeping hidden. It was a fear of sorts...but not claustrophobia. Was it, perhaps, fear of getting to close her? If so, in what way?

"Alright. I've been warned."Clarke stepped aside from the small opening and motioned for him to enter. "Now get in before anyone spots us."

* * *

He was right. It was cramped. And she was sitting as far away from him as possible, her back against one side of the alcove and his on the other. But their legs were entangled. There was no way around it, not in less she sat in his lap...which wasn't happening.

But the worst problem wasn't really the cramped space, or the feeling of bugs crawling up her shirt, or the waiting, or the fear of being found. It wasn't even how, every time he moved his legs, his foot caressed her thigh. No, it was the silence that was unbearable. The silence lingered between them like a thick cloud of fog, stale and suffocating.

But what was even worse was when Bellamy chose to break the silence. Or rather, _how_ he chose to break it. "So...you like to draw, huh?"

Great. He'd brought up her sketchbook in a way that was _totally_ not awkward. And who was he to be questioning her about something he wasn't supposed to have been looking at anyway? "Yeah..." If he wanted to talk about it, he was on his own. She wasn't going to make it easy for him.

She could see him swallow. "You're really good. How long have you been drawing?"

Clarke rolled her eyes. Were they really doing this? "About as long as I can remem.."

Bellamy cut her off. "Why are there so many of me?" His eyes seemed to be boring holes into her, his gaze was so intense.

The silence, again, reigned between them. How was she supposed to answer a question _she_ didn't even know the answer to? Clarke let out a breath. "I dunno..."

"Oh" Bellamy looked away. For a moment, she thought he looked...disappointed?

"I dunno, Bellamy, I guess I'm just trying to figure you out." Clarke shifted her leg to be more comfortable. He watched the action like she was this strange creature invading his space. She really shouldn't be, but she felt insulted. "You're a walking contradiction. You can be so ruthless, so unfeeling and selfish. But I feel like, when you latch onto someone you care about, you'd do anything for them. You're a jerk most of the time, but you have moments of nobility that I have a hard time fathoming..." Wow. Did she really just say that?

* * *

Bellamy looked at her in a mixture of shocked horror and perplexity. Did she really just say what he thought she had? Him, _noble?_ He didn't know how to respond. So he didn't. Instead, he changed the subject back to less dangerous ground. "Well, you're really good, but I don't have freckles..." He made a disgusted face at her.

Clarke laughed. He felt it go up his spine. It was eerie. "Yes you do." She reached her hand out and touched the spot between his cheek and the bridge of his nose. "Right there."

Bellamy had to force himself to keep from twitching away from her. "I do not!"

Clarke smiled and licked her lips. His eyes immediately followed the action. "You should look in a mirror sometime..."

He raised one eyebrow above the other. "And where exactly am I supposed to find one of those, Princess?"

"I have one. I found it on the drop ship. You can borrow it when we get back. But if you didn't have freckles before coming to Earth...you definitely have them now!" Clarke was still smiling and it...unnerved him. This was weird. Too weird.

Bellamy muttered something about doing some reconnaissance. It was nearly dark. Before she could forbid him to, he crawled out the cubby and had replaced the brush. "I'll be back in an hour or so." And he was gone.

* * *

What had she done? She knew that what she'd said might've been awkward. But it had also been true. Both the freckles and the nobility bit. Somehow, over the past couple of days, her opinion of him had changed drastically. It most likely had something to do with the fact that he had saved her life twice in just as many days. But whatever the reason, he was no longer the bad guy. It was almost incomprehensible, but it was true.

Just a couple of days earlier she had feared he might kill her for no better reason than that she questioned his authority. And she was still pretty sure he had been planning on it. But something had changed. So now?...well now she was putting her life in his hands...and she felt comfortable doing it. My how life could change in just a couple of days.

* * *

He wasn't claustrophobic. So why had he found it so hard to breathe in there? Clarke had said some pretty strange things. Intense things, actually. It was obvious that she no longer viewed him as the enemy. It shouldn't mean so much to him, but it did. And he no longer viewed her as the enemy. But these realizations weren't what he was escaping from.

It wasn't even his growing awareness of his attraction to her. She was pretty hot, so that was to be expected. This was hardly something that would make him panic like he had.

No, It was the tightness in his chest he'd felt when she had smiled. Clarke wasn't one to bestow her smiles freely. Not like Octavia. So it meant all the more when she had smiled _at him_. He supposed it was just because he felt honored to have received her trust and kinship. Yeah. That was it.

Bellamy was breathing easier now. It was a good thing too. He had managed to compose himself just in time to hide from a nearby Grounder. He had to remember that he was on dangerous ground. Enemies surrounded him everywhere.

But this enemy was wounded. It cradled its seemingly useless arm . Blood dripped down from its shoulder.

Bellamy, quiet as a mouse, stepped out from his hiding place and followed the injured Grounder.

* * *

Bellamy was back less than an hour later. "Clarke, come on. I found their medical bay, if you can call it that..."

Darkness had fallen, so she didn't even hesitate crawling out to join him. He grabbed her hand to help her up. She nearly pulled it away in defiance but then realized there was nothing, really, to be defiant about. He was helping her when he didn't have to.

"How did you...?"

"I followed one who was injured, and sure enough he led me to where he would get treated for his wounds!" Bellamy seemed pretty excited now. He'd done good and he knew it.

They walked for a few minutes together before reaching the compound, helping each other to keep from tripping in the darkness. As night had fallen, it appeared that the number of Grounders patrolling the area had dwindled. It shouldn't be too hard to make it to the building Bellamy was now pointing to.

Clarke was about to step forward when Bellamy grabbed her wrist and swung her back to face him. "Wait, Clarke. You're going to need a distraction to get in there unnoticed." Clarke was about to protest as she could see his idea forming on his lips. "No Clarke, you know I need to do this. You know what you're looking for, I don't. And that guard sitting by the door may look asleep, but I bet he won't be by the time you open the hundred year old door beside him. It squeaks. I already heard it."

Clarke nodded. "Ok, but I may still need you inside. Try and make into the building as soon as you lose them." Assuming he _could_ lose them.

Bellamy nodded. He still had a hold of her wrist, though. She tried to pull away, twist it out of his grasp. "Hold on. I need to do something before we do this."

Puzzlement was the only expression she was able to give him. What was he about?

"If I do die..."

Clarke cut him off "Bellamy, don't say th..."

"_If_ I do...there is something I need to do first. I will regret it if I don't!" Bellamy looked very serious. _Too _serious.

She nodded ascent. Whatever it was, it had to be important.

Taking a deep, and noticeably shaky breath, Bellamy continued. "I'm sorry". Clarke looked at him with wide eyes. He was _apologizing_. "I'm sorry that I shot the chancellor. I'm sorry about Charlotte, and Murphy and Atom. I'm sorry that 300 people died because of my actions. I'm sorry that I was the cause of Wells' death..."

"Now Bellamy, we've..."

"And I'm _sorry_ that I've been such an asshole. To you, and everyone in general. I was trying to do right by my sister, but I just ended up wrecking hers and many others' lives. I'm sorry." Bellamy didn't seem to be able to meet her eyes. This had been very hard for him, and she admired him for it.

Clarke used her free hand and squeezed his hand, the one wrapped around her wrist. "Thank you." It took her a few moments to capture his gaze, but when she did it was almost electric. His eyes were glassy and she felt a pain in her chest. That look said more about him as person than all the facts in the world. He was _definitely_ human. "Ok. Well, now that we got that all sorted, are you ready to go kick some Grounder ass?" She raised her brows at him.

Bellamy chuckled. Tugging her wrist free from his grasp, she turned away and made it about two steps before he spun her back around. "_Almost_", Bellamy said right before his lips captured hers.

Clarke's eyebrows flew straight up, her eyes wide with shock. His mouth continued its assault, for that's what it was, while she was frozen, noncompliant. Fighting for dominance, his tongue pushed its way into her mouth, stroking the soft flesh within. It was rough and full of pure lust. Finally snapping out of her stupor, she pushed against him with her fists. How dare he?! She clutched at his shirt, trying to shove him away, but his hands had wrapped around her waist, locking her in place. Stiff, limp, and unresponsive was what she would give him if she couldn't get away. Unless...She was about to bite his tongue.

But then she closed her eyes. In that moment something happened. It was as though she became acutely aware of every place he was touching, _how_ he was touching her. One of the hands at her waist moved to clutch her shirt, rumpled in his grasp. The other started to trace a path up under her shirt. His kiss gentled and his tongue lapped at her mouth. She couldn't help herself. She mewled. _Mewled_ into his mouth. Her knees felt weak, but she was determined to hold her ground. In fact, she was determined, now, to give as best as she got!

But just as she opened her mouth wider to partake in the action herself, he pulled away.

Clarke felt suddenly cold.

Her breath came in rapid pants now. She eyed him, a mixture of lust and loathing warred in her eyes.

Bellamy smirked in his self assured way. "_Now_ I'm ready".

* * *

He streaked across the clearing, stealthy and silent. It was almost like playing flashlight, he thought. He hadn't had this much fun since he was a kid. But even he had to admit to himself that it wasn't just because he was playing tag with a bunch of people who wanted to kill him.

No, it mostly had to do with that kiss.

That was the best damn kiss he thought he'd ever had. The only thing that would've made it better was if she'd actually...well...participated a bit. But as one sided kisses went, It was definitely the best.

He wondered if he'd had more time...

But now was not the time to think about it. The Grounder chasing him certainly wouldn't care about his love life, so neither should he.

Bellamy made it to a shed and darted around the back of it. The Grounder had lost him. It was looking around perplexedly. Then it moved on, figuring he had continued running.

Dashing back to the med bay building, Bellamy smirked as he saw the now unguarded entrance. The door, of course, squeaked when he entered, but no one was around to hear it. No one but Clarke, who was just down the hall.

"Good! You made it." She actually looked relieved that he was still alive. After that kiss, he wasn't so sure if she would. Then she waved him into a room with the door to it propped open. "The stuff's in here."

She started rifling through cabinets and drawers, pulling miscellaneous items from them and shoving them into her pack. "There doesn't seem to be much of the original supplies here, but they've made do with their own, it appears."

Bellamy shrugged. "Well I suppose you can't really expect them to have not used them up in a hundred years. There's stuff you can use, though?" He really hoped this hadn't been for nothing.

Clarke nodded. "There seems to be many poultices, like the one they used on Jasper. There are also many bandages and even some painkillers left. Those will be very useful!" Bellamy leaned back against the counter. She looked like a kid in a candy store. It felt good, seeing her like this. It felt right...being the one to make her like this.

And then it felt all wrong.

Bellamy didn't hear the Grounder. He didn't see where it came from. All he remembered seeing was Clarke pushing supplies into her pack and then her anchored against the wall, a spear in her shoulder. Bellamy yelled in horror. He raced to her, ignoring the threat that was most definitely behind him. He could've run. He probably could've taken it on. But his only thought had been for Clarke. "Oh God! Clarke, no..." She was spasming against the wall, presumably from the pain. She tried to talk, to warn him probably. But he already knew it was behind him. The Grounder would pay for this! Bellamy turned, his arrow drawn. And then everything went black.

* * *

**So I know...totally evil where I left it, right? But there was a kiss scene! Doesn't that make it all better? **

**No? Well...I have some bad news for everyone who was driven insane by this cliffhanger. I am going on vacation for a couple weeks with the fam. I am totally going to keep writing on this story while I am gone, but internet access will be spotty at best, so I may not be able to actually update it till I am back. I promise I _will_continue the story...it will just be on a two week hiatus, is all. I am really loving writing this story and I have decided that us Bellarkers are the best fans IN THE FREAKIN WORLD! So I will not leave you hanging forever. **

**Love you guys! And Please forgive me!**

**Something will definitely continue to be brewing in my head, haha...**


	7. His Brave Princess

**Oh my gosh, I am finally back! I actually got back a few days ago, and I was totally planning on updating as soon as I got back, but I was so tired, and I hadn't actually done any writing over vacation. I also had a bunch of stuff to take care of after being gone for two weeks. So I know that all sounds like excuses, but It's not, really. It's my apology. I'm sorry I didn't update sooner. You guys are all so wonderful and I hate that I disappointed you.**

**With that said, can I say how lovely it is to have people cracking down on me, impatient for the next chapter! No, really. It makes my heart feel good that you like my story well enough to come after me for a new chapter, lol! **

**So this update is a bit shorter than some of the previous ones. But I wanted to go ahead and give you something. I still left it with a cliffhanger, but not as bad. Let me know what you think of the new character. I know there's not much to them yet, but I am curious what you think.**

**I am also the very proud recipient of 100 reviews! That is SO awesome! You guys make me feel so loved and I totally love you back!**

**So please, read, enjoy, and review so I can get feedback and know how I am doing! I really do take what you say to heart and am willing to change things to be better.**

**Oh. And please read the end notes afterwards for a vote!**

* * *

It was more than just rustling that woke Monty up this time. No, this time it sounded like the grounders were bringing people to join him. He distinctly heard a body being dragged over the ground of the tent, followed by the thud of another as it hit the ground. Monty kept his eyes squeezed shut through out.

When he heard the rustle of the grounder leaving the tent, his eyes snapped open. Monty was unsurprised by what he saw. Who else could it have been? Clarke and Bellamy had failed. Monty sighed. Then his eyes alit on the splotch of red forming on Clarke's shoulder. She'd been stabbed!

He tried to lunge towards her but the bindings around his wrists and ankles only made him roll on his side. He was gagged, so he couldn't yell for help, not that there was anyone who would come. He managed to squirm his way over to Clarke's side, but he couldn't sit up. He was still helpless even if he could. He head butted Bellamy's leg in an attempt to try and wake him, but he only moaned.

Monty lifted his butt in the air, his face supporting the weight of his upper body. Maybe he could work backwards into a sitting position.

It was in this position that he was found.

He was laughed at.

He couldn't really blame her.

And if it wasn't for the seriousness of Clarke's situation, he probably would've felt very awkward.

As it was, the Grounder saw the look on his face and her smile disappeared. She followed his gaze over to Clarke and she immediately ran back out the tent.

Monty had finally worked himself up into a sitting position next to Clarke by the time the Grounder had returned.

She shoved him over a little bit and sat right next to him. She ripped open Clarke's shirt, leaving her in just a bra. He was amazed as he saw her quickly and urgently set to work cleaning Clarke's wound. The girl felt Clarke's forehead, seemed pleased that there was no fever, or something, and administered the same paste they'd found on Jasper. Monty looked away as she stripped off the bra to replace it with bandages. By the time she was done, Clarke looked much better and Monty knew she would make it.

Monty looked at her, a question in his eyes. She could probably tell what he was trying to ask, just with that look. But he still asked the question. "Why?" It was a question with a duel answer: why had the grounders started attacking them? And why was she helping them?

The Grounder girl looked back and forth between him and Clarke. Her eyebrows scrunched up in concern.

She moved her mouth, as though trying to make out which words he would understand. Finally, she just went for it. "They have a...reason. I...do...not agree. But,...they are...trying to...save...my...people."

This made Monty mad. There was absolutely no good reason to pick off a relatively defenseless race of people.

The Grounder girl grabbed his wrist when she saw his anger. "No!...Let me...show...you..."

* * *

There was a throbbing in his head. He tried to open his eyes, but the weight of them was too much. His head hurt laying on the ground like it was, so he rolled over onto his side. He reached out blindly, to lift himself up. His hand landed on something rounded and human.

Bellamy heard Clarke moan.

His eyes snapped open.

He'd put his weight on her leg, fortunately, and not her shoulder. Suddenly every memory of what had happened the previous night came rushing back. Bellamy grabbed his head against the pounding. But he reached out for Clarke, wanted to ensure himself that she as still alive. She had moaned, but he could've imagined that, he supposed.

He saw her bare shoulder, the other covered in bandages, gooey Grounder paste oozing out the sides. Good. It gave her a fighting chance. But just to make sure...

Bellamy nudged her shoulder. The one undamaged. He wasn't a complete bastard. "Clarke! Come on" Clarke, wake up! Are you alright?"

He nudged her again and she moaned. Bellamy sat back holding his pounding head. He let out a sigh, realizing he had been holding his breath. She may not have be conscious yet, but at least she was still alive.

He leaned forward and touched her face. No sign of fever. The poultice must've warded off infection. Damn the Grounders, but bless their bloody medicine!

Clarke moaned again, her lips parting. Suddenly, remembering their kiss last night, Bellamy's eyes lingered on her mouth. His own lips lifted at the edges. That had been one hell of a kiss! If only it hadn't been so one-sided...If she had just kissed him back, he was pretty sure he would've died and gone to hell. He was also pretty sure he would't have been able to stop at just a kiss. There was something about Clarke, like he wasn't in control of his faculties when she was around..._she_ was.

And last night, when she'd been speared through her shoulder, when she had been pinned against the wall, dying...Well, it changed something for him. Something he wasn't yet willing to admit, but knew was there.

However able he was to hide that something itself, he wasn't able to hide the effects of it anymore. He wasn't sure he wanted to even fight it, either. And so he didn't.

"My brave Princess...", Bellamy whispered, barely able to hear it himself. With a youthfulness in his eyes, as though just this one act could strip away years of hardship and wrongdoings, he leaned over Clarke.

And kissed her.

It was the chastest kiss he had given anyone aside from maybe his Mom and sister. But in some respects it was also the most daunting. Because in that kiss he had admitted to himself that this woman lying wounded before him was important to him. That he wanted her to live, not just for the sake of living, but for himself.

He couldn't bare it if she had died.

And that was when Monty walked into the tent.

* * *

Monty eyed him suspiciously. Bellamy had managed to fly across the tent in enough of a blur to prevent Monty from actually seeing the stolen kiss. However, Monty was no idiot. And Bellamy knew this.

So, actually, Bellamy was _glad_ for the distraction that the female Grounder presented. It gave him a reason to deflect. Which he did.

"Monty! What the _hell_ is going on? You're free...and...why are you..._cavorting_ with a Grounder" He motioned to the way the Grounder was standing awfully close and unthreateningly to Monty.

Monty snorted. "I'm hardly cavorting, dude. Just collecting intel. And speaking of intel, how is Clarke doing?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Bellamy went back to Clarke's side...and stroked her hair. Bellamy instantly regretted this gesture, but he couldn't take it back now. "She seems to be ok...but no thanks to your Grounder friends!"

Crossing his arm, Monty narrowed his eyes. "Ok, Bellamy, lets get one thing straight, just because I am walking around with a Grounder doesn't mean they are my _friends_. Secondly, _this_ Grounder is the reason Clarke is still alive. If it hadn't been for her, Clarke would probably be dead by now."

Bellamy looked suitably chastised and so Monty didn't feel the need to continue. "Now, lets let _Ide _(pronounced eeda) check on Clarke".

Bellamy practically growled. "I am _not_ going to leave Clarke alone with a _Grounder_!"

Rolling his eyes, Monty crossed his arms and said, "Fine, Bellamy. But I'm waiting outside. Ide is this village's healer. She has helped before and will help, now. But if it makes you feel better, you can watch and make sure that she doesn't poison the patient she spent all night trying to save!"

* * *

Ide got straight to work. She lifted Clarke's chest up to a sitting position. She motioned for Bellamy to hold her in place. She must've figured that if he was going to be there, he might as well be put to use. It actually didn't bother him. It was Clarke. He would've wanted to help anyway.

And then it became pretty clear why Monty was determined to leave. Her shirt had been ripped away to care for her wound. Not only that, but her bra was gone. It must've been taken off as well. And Ide was undoing the bandages, the only thing keeping Clarke from being fully exposed. Yeah. Monty would've felt really awkward. Hell. _He_ felt really awkward.

As the bandages slipped off entirely, Bellamy looked away. He knew Clarke wouldn't like being this vulnerable...this prone, before him. And he respected that, despite the fact that she wasn't even aware of what was going on.

Ide seemed to be thorough and quick. She had Clarke's wound cleaned, poulticed and re-bandaged in no time.

Bellamy inspected Ide a little bit closer now. When he had first laid eyes on her, all he'd seen was her fur covered extremities, the paint on her face (which could've been tattoos), and her scraggly reddish hair. He'd seen a barbarian. Now, he wasn't so sure. How could anyone who seemed to work such miracles, who tried so hard to save lives, of either race, be barbaric? His opinion of Grounders as a whole may not've changed, but _this_ Grounder was slowly gaining his approval. She was most assuredly a better human being than he.

"Healing...well". Ide nodded approval at Bellamy. He began to lay Clarke back down when Ide grabbed his arm, halting him. "Not yet." Bellamy continued to hold Clarke in his arms and Ide mixed another concoction. It looked to be a bunch of herbs which she stirred in warm water. Some kind of tea, maybe?

His theory proved correct when Ide tilted Clarke's head back slightly, and opened her mouth to pour the noxious smelling stuff down her throat.

Clarke choked and sputtered, and still Ide continued to press the tea on her. Bellamy nearly grabbed Ide's wrist to make her stop, but Clarke herself did it for him.

Ide smiled when Clarke opened her eyes. Like any doctor, she was proud her patient was doing well.

As soon as Clarke saw who was force feeding her, her eyes went wide and her whole body stiffened. It was only then that she seemed to realize she was being held. Clarke's head twisted around to see who was holding her. She seemed to relax slightly upon seeing Bellamy, but her eyes darted back and forth between them, obviously frightened.

The healer pressed the teacup towards Clarke insistently. Clarke looked to Bellamy. "What's going on?" She whispered.

Bellamy tried to smile reassuringly. He was pretty sure it didn't work. "It's ok, Clarke. She's trying to help. I think it's like the tea you make."

Clarke finally did relax against him, and drank from the cup willingly. It made his chest warm to know that she really did trust her life in his hands, for that's what she was doing.

Monty peeked his head in, a hand over his eyes. "How's it going?"

Bellamy smiled. "It's alright Monty, you can come in now." Clarke moved slightly to try and see Monty, but she gasped because of the pain. Bellamy instantly ran a soothing hand over her head. "Shhhh, luv." He whispered. "Hold still." Bellamy might've even kissed her forehead if it weren't for the silent warning written in her eyes. She was mad. Guess he'd have to go back to calling her Princess.

* * *

"Ohhh Clarke, you look good! Ide did a good job on you!" Monty was quite proud, almost as though he had done the work himself. For some reason, Monty had grown rather close to the Grounder.

Clarke looked intently at the Grounder woman who had remained silent the entire time she had been awake. They seemed to be assessing each other for a moment or two. Then finally, "I'm Clarke. Thanks for saving my life". Clarke put her hand out, the one on the uninjured arm, to shake.

The Grounder looked at her hand, trying to figure out what she was supposed to do with it, she was sure. But then the Grounder surprised Clarke by firmly grasping her hand and giving it a slight shake. "Ide. And...you're welcome." Clarke hadn't been expecting her to speak english, but she tried not to let it show on her face.

Upon the release of her hand, Clarke realized how awkward she felt. Not only was she in Bellamy's arms...and not so long after he had kissed her, but everyone was watching. _And_ he was acting funny, saying weird things. She needed to extricate herself. "Hey Bellamy, can you lay me back down? I think I should get some more rest." Truth be told, she was entirely too aware of his arms wrapped around her waist. She was pretty sure that if it had been anyone else, it wouldn't have bothered her so much...with the exception of Finn, of course.

He whispered in her ear, "Of course, _Princess_." Bellamy slowly pulled his arms from her waist, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her stomach. She told herself that the chill she felt was simply from her skin being exposed to a cool gust. Never mind the fact that it was a pretty warm day, and there was no breeze in the tent.

Laying her down on the padding of her makeshift bed, Bellamy addressed Monty, "So, I think you should tell us more about what's going on and why these Grounders have their '_reasons'_ for wanting us dead..." Bellamy totally air quoted the word. It made Clarke smile, despite the topic.

Monty took a breath. "They don't exactly want us _dead_, Bellamy. They are more or less just using us to keep their own people alive." Bellamy narrowed his eyes at him. The warning was pretty clear. If he didn't make it good, it might be the last yarn he'd ever tell. "Look, Ide and I have already said we don't agree with what they're doing. She's even been trying to help whenever she can. She helped Jasper when they would've just let him die...but she hoped we might get to him first, so she treated him anyways, and..."

"Just spill it, Monty!" Bellamy cut him off. Clarke was rather thankful, actually. Monty was adorable, but also unnecessarily tedious at times.

Monty pouted slightly. "Fine! Remember the skeleton in woods? And the footprints? Well, they're called Mountain Men..."

* * *

**So what did ya'll think? I hope it didn't disappoint. I found it hard to jump back in after being away from it for 2 and a half weeks. I am sure you guys are starting to figure out where I am going with it. I would love to hear your theories. You can probably already tell that I am going a very different direction with the grounders than the show. But I am also going to incorporate a little bit from the show, like the name "Mountain Men". I probably would've called them something else if they hadn't talked about them already. **

**Anyway, so what did you think of Ide? **

**Also, I have a vote for everyone. I will also try to put it up on my page, but reviews are fine too.**

**I know everyone was all Octavia/Jasper, including myself. But Lincoln/Octavia has gained quite a bit of footing in recent weeks. I am still not fully on board the Linctavia ship, but I think it has promise. **

**So my question is: Should I introduce the character of Lincoln into my story? **

**I know a way that would make perfect sense and he could be a useful character. I would probably write him a bit differently, him never having kidnapped Octavia and all. But it would definitely mess things up a little with Jasper...or at least bring about some contention...**

**Anyway, let me know and the greatest number of votes will have it!**

**See you in a few days! (fingers crossed)**


	8. Who Regrets What now?

**So I know I said I would update in a few days last time, but I was trying to give you guys more time to vote about Lincoln before I actually wrote this chapter. As it turns out, after I wrote it, I spent so much time on just Bellarke, I figured I could just cut it off before the part where I might introduce Lincoln. So that gives you guys more time to vote. Do you want Lincoln to make an appearance? You can put your answer in a review or vote in the poll on my profile page (It is at the very top of the page). **

**Anyway, I had so much fun writing this chapter. I had trouble with the last one, feeling what was going on with the characters after being away from it for so long. It felt a little stiff last week. Hopefully this is much better. Not much progress to the adventure happens. Not much actually does happen, really. But we get a good look at the inner workings of Bellarke and since that is what this fic is mainly about, I think you guys should be happy with it. I hope you guys enjoy it! Remember, please review! They're like a drug. We writers get high on them and it encourages us to update sooner!**

* * *

"Mountain Men?" Bellamy and Clarke said in unison, equally flabbergasted expressions on their faces.

Monty gave them a look that told them to shut up. "Yes, guys. Mountain Men. That's what the Grounders call them. I'm not exactly sure what the deal with them is, but they're these creatures, living scattered around the mountains. They are humanoid, but they're not...human. More like monsters..according to the grounders. And they...take people."

When Monty didn't continue, Clarke urged him on, "Take people?"

With a sigh, Monty nodded. "Yeah. I guess every once and awhile Grounders will go missing...to be found later. Mostly devoured. Limbs ripped apart. Very gruesome. The Grounders have tried to stop the Mountain Men. You'd think they would've been able to, given that they are more advanced. But the Mountain Men are smart. They have managed to avert getting caught. And anyone who tries to hunt them...well they never come back."

There was something Clarke didn't quite understand yet. "But just where do we come in? Why kill us if its the Mountain Men they want?"

Monty pursed his mouth. "This is where Ide and I don't agree with those making the decisions. You see..."

But Ide put her hand on his chest to stop him. It was her people he was talking about. _She_ would offer the explanation, however misguided it was. "My people thought...if we set traps...with _live_ bait...they might...work." Her accent was strong and she spoke slowly. "We would capture many...animals...to set in the traps. But _still_ the Mountain Men...would come after people in...the camp, instead of the...animals. They have a taste...for human flesh." Here she took a deep breath. "When we found the one...with the" Ide looked to Monty and made Os with her fingers on her forehead."

"Goggles! She means Jasper!" Monty filled in immediately.

She nodded and continued. "He had been injured. We...brought him back. That is when our...elders decided to...string him up?" Again, her eyes questioned Monty who nodded. "to the the trap. To try to capture a...Mountain Man, since...they seem to...prefer...humans. They thought that...even if...that trap didn't work, it might...spare one of our...own. It might...appease its appetite...for a while. It failed, because you...found him...thankfully." Ide looked truly relieved. "But our elders...still believe...the best way to save our tribe...is to use _your_ people...as bait."

Realization dawned on Bellamy. "So they _weren't_ trying to capture the panther I bagged!" He seemed a little disappointed.

Clarke smiled. "No Bell. And _you_ weren't the one who 'bagged' it, if I remember correctly. You just _pretended _to."

Monty totally thought Bellamy was going to be mad. For two reasons. One: she had been awfully familiar and used the nickname Octavia had given her brother. And two: She was _mocking_ him! _In front of people!_

He couldn't have been more shocked when Bellamy responded lightheartedly, "_Details_" And _smiled _at her!

What was going on? Something was seriously wrong with this picture. He was so sure Bellamy would kill them in their sleep when they set out on this journey. And now...Monty felt very left out. Something had happened and he had missed it!

Bellamy's business face returned. "So where does that leave us now? They obviously plan to use us as a lure for the traps..."

Ide was about to answer when Clarke interrupted. "_Now_ we find out more about our new enemy."

* * *

There was a guard posted outside their tent. But Ide said she would do her best to sneak in what information she knew existed about the Mountain Men. For some reason Monty was allowed to go with her, while they weren't. Not that Clarke minded. She needed her rest.

It took Ide quite a while to return, so Clarke decided she would take a nap while waiting. She laid back on the pallet that had been Monty's. Closing her eyes, Clarke desperately tried everything she could to void her mind of everything that had happened in the last 86 hours. So much had changed in such a short period of time. They had come for supplies and would now, most likely, be used as Monster bait. She was wounded, and even if she did survive all this, there was a great risk of infection and gangrene could set in, despite the very good doctoring of Ide. But for some reason, what she found the hardest to assimilate, what was _really_ keeping her up, was Bellamy.

Not 4 days previously he had wanted to kill her...or at least let her get herself killed. She thought they had had a sort of tenuous partnership. As long as it worked out ok for him, he would let her advise him and he wouldn't kill her. But last night, everything had changed. She wasn't really sure when that changed had occurred. She also couldn't figure out the reason. You don't go from wanting to kill someone to wanting to make out with them in the matter of 4 days without a reason.

If it had been purely physical, felt more sexual, then maybe she could understand. She'd thought at first that maybe it was just the male desire to assert his sexual prowess one last time before he thought he might die. And she wasn't vain by any means, but she knew that she was attractive, despite the crappy hair and no deodorant. True, part of that had been taken care of by her little dip in the stream, but still...

No, there was just something about the _way_ he had kissed her that hinted at more than just sexual attraction. Finn hadn't even kissed her that way, with not only desire, but...longing?

Clarke peeked out at the man who was currently keeping her from slumber. He was definitely attractive with his dark shaggy hair, and dark skin. The freckles were even kind of adorable. And his eyes...they were to die for...if dark brooding eyes were your thing, that is. She had to admit that the kiss had been good, awesome, even. She couldn't even fathom what it would've been like had she kissed him back. Clarke had been rather surprised with her reaction to him. Sure, she had warmed to him, no longer hoping he'd go off on a hunting trip one day never to return. But she had never thought of him in that way before. But apparently he had.

Which weirded her out a little. He was an enigma in regards to his thoughts and feelings. She thought she understood him enough to predict his actions, but she hadn't predicted that kiss. Although, thinking back on it, she now saw the signs. Just little things that had cropped up in the last few days. She realized that he had been flirting with her for real, not just playing with her. One thing still nagged at her, though. _Why_? Why had he suddenly started to change towards her? She was still sure he had followed them meaning to end her before she could reach Mount Weather. So what had happened to change that?

Screw sleep!

"Bellamy..."

His eyes immediately found hers. "Yeah?" He spoke with a casual drawl, but his eyes were so intense she had to look away.

"Why?"

Scrunching his eyebrows together, Bellamy looked genuinely confused. "Why what?" Then he chuckled and she wondered if he really knew. "You're gonna have to give me a bit more to go on than that, Princess."

Oh that blasted nickname! Another reason to be mad at Finn just got added to the list.

In some ways this was the hardest question she was ever going to ask, aside from why her mom had her dad floated, of course. Clarke swallowed. Then her eyes darted to his and locked on. "Why did you kiss me, Bellamy?"

* * *

Oh _shit!_

Why the hell did she have to bring that up _now_?

She hadn't said anything, or even looked at him funny since they'd found themselves awake in this tent. Bellamy thought maybe she didn't remember, hoped more like. Not that he regretted it! Not at all...But he really didn't want to deal with the fallout. Guess he should've thought of that _before _he'd kissed her. Not sure if it would've done any good, but he should've just the same.

When he kissed her, he really did think he would die. And she was so damn lovely. He couldn't pass up the opportunity. At the time, he'd told himself that that was the only reason.

But now she was expecting a reason...and he knew that wasn't really it. Too much had happened since then to make him realize there was more to it. More that he _knew_ he just didn't have the courage to say. And if he _did_ say it out loud, that would make it more than just a theory in his own brain. It would make it real.

So no. He couldn't tell her that he found her extremely attractive, alluring even. That he doubted his ability to keep from taking her then and there if she had kissed him back. That he still wanted to. That it wouldn't be cheap sex for him. That the way she was currently biting her lip while waiting for his answer just made him want to kiss her again. That he was also afraid, for fear of her reaction...and for fear of _his_. But there was more to it than that.

He couldn't tell her that it was more than just physical attraction. He couldn't tell her that he wanted to protect her. That he'd been scared to death when she'd just about died last night. That he would've given his life for her. That he couldn't lose her. That as much as he pretended to disregard her, she made him want to live up to her expectations. Not just for her, but for himself. That she had this way of influencing him like no one else ever had. He couldn't tell her that as much as he'd been trying to tell himself he was ruthless, he didn't want to be. That as much as he didn't want to be a killer, he was willing to kill..._for her. _That he already had.

He couldn't tell her that she had made him realize he was a part of something now, on Earth. He'd never really been a part of something before, just an unwanted and unappreciated cog. And now she not only _needed_ him, but so did the whole of the 100 still left standing. And she'd made him realize that.

That as much as he was a rebel...he wanted to be a good leader. And _Clarke_ had made him realize this. Everyone else made him feel despicable, even Octavia occasionally. Even those who now worshipped the ground he walked on made him feel despicable. They were just afraid of him. But as much as she chewed him out and made him feel guilty, she had always made him feel that he was far from worthless. That he could be so much more. That he was important and had an important part to play. He couldn't tell her that she saw something in him no one else ever had in a long time. And that because of her, now he did too...

He couldn't tell her that the way she _saw_ him made him wonder more about _who_ she really was. How she really felt...about him. Before seeing her sketchbook, he had wondered if she had been all words. But no one could say her depictions of him made him seem despicable. He was just a man, with many flaws. All which he had seemed to lay bare before her, unknowingly. Unconsciously, it must've started long ago.

Bellamy had been denying this for a long time. He couldn't tell her that when she had convinced him to help her for the sake of their people, to overlook his own interests for theirs...Well he couldn't tell her that in that moment, in his most selfless moment, he was also more selfish than he had ever been before. That he wanted something, not for his sister or mother, not for the 100, and not for Clarke. In that moment, he began to want something for himself. He wanted _her._

That's why he had kissed her. But he couldn't tell her, because that would only lead to another "why".

And that was something he definitely wasn't going to answer. Bellamy tried to tell himself it was because he still didn't comprehend it himself. But it didn't work. Damn it all to hell!

And she was still expecting some sort of answer. He had already taken too long to reply and she was growing ever more suspicious. Any answer he gave now might be misconstrued, anyway.

Finally, he answered. "Clarke, I don't think you really want to get into this _now_...We have more important issues to deal with." He was trying to deflect.

It wasn't going to work. Clarke narrowed her eyes. He had only made her mad. "That's where you're _wrong_, Bellamy! When else are we ever going to discuss this? Yeah, things look bad now. But that's exactly why we _should_ talk about it now. We shouldn't let things remain unsaid when we might be about to die!"

Scoffing, Bellamy replied, "Yeah, well. That's kinda what got us in this situation, doing things we might regret later if we live!"

Clarke set her lips hard together. He never thought anyone could still look so beautiful while they also looked as mad as she did. "Bellamy Blake, are you telling me that you regret kissing me because you _lived_?" The last word was said so vehemently that the implication of her changing that state of being was clear.

He had his mouth open to respond. He really did. He was even...maybe...going to tell her the truth. As much as he took a twisted sort of pleasure from her tirades, he really didn't like her being truly mad at him. It always made him feel horrible. But she would have to remain mad a little bit longer.

Because Monty had impeccably awful timing.

The tent flap came up and Monty asked. "Whoa! Who regrets kissing who now?" Monty looked between the pair of them, a big goofy grin on his face. "And why does Clarke look like she's going to scalp you, Bellamy?"

* * *

**So yeah, not much _actually_ happened in this chapter. But there was still lots of Bellarke. I feel like it gave you and little bit more of a look at how the kiss affected them both, since the last chapter didn't really touch on it. **

**Another reminder about the Vote for Lincoln. Let me know if you think I should introduce him or not. Also, to what extent. I could just have him make a cameo appearance, which at present is what I am thinking. But I could make him a bit more important, too. Let me know and I will go with what get the highest votes. You guys do have an influence over the direction of the story whether you realize it or not.**

**Till next time!**


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